The CORE of the Matter
by Siren-Song-Jes
Summary: Dr. W.D. Gaster always knew there was something very unique about his apprentice, but he had no idea he was keeping secrets like THOSE. Could Sans really have been holding the key to breaking the barrier this entire time?
1. Final Preparations

**A/N: Wow, guys, it's been a long time since I've written anything that was fanfiction related! I feel like a kid again! Anyway, Undertale has inspired so much creativity that's it's spilling over in all of the aspects of my life (creativity should really have it's own heart color). I really hope you enjoy this aspect and I'll try to keep this a constant thing of at least one chapter a week. For now, enjoy Chapter 1!**

* * *

 **Chapter 1**

 _ **Final Preparations**_

Conversation had died down hours ago and the other assistants had been released for the day. Even eager Alphys eventually had to call it a day. This could all wait until tomorrow to be finished up right. At least that what she said as she kept checking her cell phone for the time. She was late already to catch the first two hours of the newest anime trash she'd found by hacking into the frequency boosters.

 _'She really is a smart and resourceful kid.'_ Dr. W. D. Gaster thought to himself as he and his final remaining assistant traversed the hallway, set on getting the last bit of inventory documented before calling it a night themselves, _'Alphys has a lot of potential. It's just too bad all of her projects are such . . . a complete waste of time.'_

As Gaster and his only remaining assistant made their way through the final hallway, the clicking of their shoes on the tile kept the time, monitoring their progress and resonating with every step. The ricocheting echoes was a haunting reminder of just how desolate the place could be. Here in the lowest sub-basement, down the longest hallway, heading for a room located in the furthest reaches of the laboratory, a certain unshakable chill seemed to hover about them and both scientists knew already there would be no release from the icy grip until they could make it back to one of the main rooms of the topmost level. For now, they had to press onward. There was still work to do.

Beside him, the doctor could hear his apprentice release a deep sigh and couldn't help but wonder if he was just tired or if that sigh was an unconscious release of pent-up frustration. The apprentice was normally a quiet person who rarely spoke unless he was directly addressed. He almost never took notes during lab experiments, but still managed to somehow retain just about everything and quickly come to solutions before any of the other assistants. Sometimes he would come to conclusions before Gaster himself and he would often be right. Gaster could almost always tell by his assistant's expression when he was on the verge of some breakthrough, but even then, he would remain silent until asked to speak.

Today, however, he seemed sluggish, crestfallen even. Being the diligent pupil he was, however, he kept step with Gaster even when everyone else had opted to leave. This put the doctor in a strange predicament. Gaster knew what could happen when this particular assistant was alone with his thoughts for too long, especially when he was in a mood like this. And seeing that there was no one else around, it was on Gaster to cheer him up before he started doing _that_. The doctor refused to let it get to that state.

"So," Gaster began obviously trying to fill the corridor with sound and offer a break from the haunting silence, "After this final room, inventory will be complete, so you can head home if you like. I will expect you and the others back early for Spring Cleaning. For now, why don't you get some rest? It wouldn't be good if you came in unable to focus. In fact, it would probably end most disastrously for you in particular."

The assistant shrugged with both hands in his pockets and his clipboard pinned to his side by his elbow. "Eh . . ." was his only response.

So that meant he was going to stay until inventory was done and everything had been cataloged then? Odd. As diligent as he was, Gaster had never known this assistant to pass on an opportunity to slip away early if he could. Okay, something was definitely off about him today. Again, this put Gaster in a tough spot. Should he ignore the odd behavior and deal with the awkward air settling in like a thick layer of smoke, or should he ask about it and risk _that_?

With a mixture of trepidation, pity and sheer curiosity, Gaster began again. "So, um . . ."

"We're here." The apprentice said at the same time. "Thank God." He added under his breath.

Those were Gaster's thoughts exactly. Finally, something else to occupy time. Reaching up for the keycard at his lapel, Gaster approached the door and swiped the magnetic strip of his badge through the reader which had been waiting patiently to be used. As if delighted by the bit of work it got to do, the tiny machine chirped and the lock of the door granted access with a resounding click.

No matter how many times he did it, the heaviness of these storage doors always took Gaster by surprise. It took more effort than he cared to admit to get the door open with enough light to see. The apprentice on the other hand, seemed to have no problem shoving his door open and he leaned against the door frame with his eyes lowered while Gaster quickly surveyed the contents of the room.

Really, there was not a whole lot in the room except for a few boxes, some broken equipment, a failed experiment, and an excessive amount of empty space. Shooting a look at his assistant, Gaster came to a snap decision.

"How about I leave this room to you?" He suggested as he lowered his clipboard and turned his back on the contents of the room. "I am about 90% certain that this room is filled with junk and a few duds, so it shouldn't take you very long. Just log the salvageable contents, and put your report on my desk before you head to bed. If you need me, I'll be sorting out the logs we have already completed and dividing up the workload for tomorrow."

The assistant snapped his head up toward Gaster with a look of a child being punished by being told to do some horrible chore.

"You chose to stay." Gaster reminded.

The assistant let out another sigh, unable to argue with the truth. He nodded in defeat.

"Like I said," the doctor reiterated as he began to make his way back through the long corridor, "It won't take you very long. Good work today and I will see you in the morning."

"Night." The assistant groaned.

Gaster stopped walking for a moment to turn back and address the dreary monster. "Cheer up, Sans." He instructed with his own forced smile in place, "By this time tomorrow, we should be finished with Spring Cleaning and we will be able to continue on our current projects. I know it's tedious, but it is necessary if we don't want to be up to our eye sockets with duds and failed experiments.

The assistant, looking over his shoulder, shrugged once again and a bit of his normal smile was back in place. As cheap and as inauthentic as it was, it was much better than the lifeless expression he'd donned earlier. What worried Gaster most was that this kind of thing was becoming more and more of a common occurrence to the point that he and the others were beginning to take notice and even worry a bit about their colleague.

Come to think of it, the doctor could count how many times he had seen Sans genuinely happy on one hand without using all of his fingers. For the most part, Sans would draw attention away from himself by making jokes and keeping a constant grin in place. Gaster believed he did this strictly for the benefit of those around him. Not for the first time, Gaster wondered what in the world was going on that prevented him from feeling any happiness for himself.

No, that was the wrong question. The real question he wanted to ask was why did he care so much about how Sans felt? What benefit did that offer? It wasn't as if Sans' feelings would help with the almost literal 'breakthrough' he was searching for. In fact, they might even be holding them all back. So why even bother? As long as Sans did his job, that's all that mattered. Right? That's all he should care about. Right?

Wrong. The truth was, ever since Sans first appeared, stumbling and delirious from the scorching maze of Hotland, Gaster had taken a bit of a liking to the boy. When he found him, Sans was in such a bad state that Gaster took him in without a second thought. If he had not been out doing detail work on the newly finished Core reactor, Sans might not have made it out alive. His body almost completely gave out on him and Gaster had to carry him piggy-back style to the lab and out of the heat.

After a day or so, some water, some sleep and a good meal, Sans seemed to be doing much better. It was the first of the very few times Gaster had seen him smile. He seemed embarrassed about how he was found and the state he was in and he tried to cover it up with terrible puns, but he was grateful for Gaster all the same and he thanked him. It was the longest speech Sans had ever given.

When Gaster began to ask questions of the boy, however, questions about where he had come from; why he was out near the core; if he had anywhere to go, the light left his eyes immediately and he nearly shut off completely. Gaster could see that those subjects were particularly unpleasant and even painful to him, so he let them be. He had been able to gather, however that Sans was without a home and had been wandering the Underground alone for quite some time. At the time, Gaster was completely alone at the lab and was beginning to become overwhelmed with his workload, so he offered Sans a job as his administrative assistant and even offered to turn one of the empty rooms into a bedroom for him.

That was the second time he saw Sans smile.

It was shortly after that Gaster discovered Sans' love for the sciences and a kindred soul in his assistant. When Gaster allowed Sans to work on projects with him, he found that Sans needed little direction or explanation and relied very seldom on his instruction. It turns out Gaster had found more than just a paper pusher or even just a lab assistant in Sans. He had found a friend. No, not that either. A brother? A son? He had found family in Sans.

Maybe that's why it hurt so deeply to see him in the state he was in now. His smile was faded and his eyes were dull, almost completely blackened, and his HP* was suffering as well. When last they CHECKED, his Max HP had dropped below double digits and Gaster was beginning to worry. If this kept up, it could even drop to '1' and then there would be nothing he could do to help him turn it around.

 _'Maybe this is what he needs.'_ Gaster thought to himself as he regarded Sans again leaning against the door frame, _'A distraction. A break from the everyday hum and drum.'_

"I'll trust you to be thorough." Gaster began again as he peeled himself away and began again down the corridor. "And I'll see you in the morning."

"Sure thing." Sans answered.

* * *

Hours later, Sans was still going through boxes and cataloging the contents, separating the salvageable items and putting them in an opposite corner to make it easier in the morning. Really, it shouldn't have taken this long, but he just hadn't been feeling himself lately.

He could feel the looks Gaster and the others gave him and it was honestly starting to irritate him. No, he wasn't sick . . . not physically anyway. And no, there wasn't anything in his personal life that was affecting him. He didn't think so at least.

It's just that recently, he hadn't felt like he was accomplishing much of anything. Like he was stuck with nowhere to go and no HOPE of anything changing any time soon. In fact, when he and Gaster last CHECKED, Sans' HP levels had dropped below '10' and had settled squarely at a '6'. He had to admit that the reading shocked even him. Gaster, though, seemed a little more appropriately shaken by it. It didn't help matters at all that Gaster had been keeping an even closer eye on him as if he'd fall over and turn to dust at any given second . . . Heh, which wouldn't have happened anyway.

And really, he was getting sick of people asking about it and answering the same questions from the same people or even the same questions from different people. His go-to answer had quickly become "If there were something wrong, trust me, you'd know." He supposed that was part of the curse of having a face like his. People expected him to be smiling 24/7 and that just wasn't possible anymore.

Sans closed off one of the final boxes a little more harshly than he'd meant to and ended up tearing off one of the cardboard flaps in the process. He took a deep breath and a few steps backward. Maybe he did need a bit of a break. Just a few minutes to rest and then he'd finish the last corner. Two boxes. He could handle that.

Taking those couple steps backward, something else caught his eye, a glimmer in the dimming lights. Sans had to squint to see and what he found nearly knocked him flat on his back.

"Wh-who the heck . . . ? Who are you!?"

* * *

 **End of Chapter 1:**

 **So, what did you think? I know Sans is a little O.O.C. but that's how I meant for it to be. Believe me, it's for a good reason. I've got a lot of ideas I wanna work into this story, so I hope you'll bear with me as I work to get them out.**

 **Originally, this started off as a storyboard/ web comic idea, but I decided I'm a better writer than I am an artist. Who knows. Maybe I'll still post this first chapter in comic form. If I do, I'll link it here and I'll let you know.**

 ***I wish I could take credit for the HP = HOPE thing, but I can't. That concept was created by draconym on Tumblr and the idea was so awesome that I had to borrow it!**

 **Welp, that's it for now, I'll see you in Chapter 2 in which we find out just what Sans saw in the shadows.**


	2. Salvage

**So** **here we are at Chapter 2. Thanks for coming back to read! And to those for whom this is your first time tuning in, WELCOME!**

 **When we last saw our cast of characters, they were going through the inventory down in the lab and making notes on all of the things they should keep or throw away in preparation for what Dr. Gaster has affectionately dubbed "Spring Cleaning"**

 **Gaster has gone off to get some paperwork done, leaving his apprentice, Sans to finish up the last room. But is he really alone in there?**

 **Without further ado, let's continue with Chapter 2!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 2**_

 _ **Salvage**_

Sans had to backpedal when he saw. In the darkness of the storage room, there was another person there waiting for him! The figure was tall and thin . . . almost . . . Skeletal. It was slumped over in the corner and it used the nearby box as a leaning post. On top of this . . . it was completely naked as it slouched motionless in a crumpled pile.

Catching his breath and recovering from the shock, Sans inched closer to the figure and tried again. "H-hey, hey there. Can you hear me?"

There was no response and the figure remained motionless. Its arms were limp at its sides and its eyes were shut as if it could be sleeping there. Looking again, Sans noticed something draping from its neck. A glossy paper caught the light of the dim overhead near the door and reflected back toward him. The laminated sheet had something printed out on it, but from his distance, Sans couldn't make it out. He had to get closer.

As he inched forward, he was able to see the figure more and more clearly. The figure remained still. Forget sleeping. This thing could've been dead. Except it wasn't dust . . . and it had a sign.

Sans was able to make out defined cheekbones and a prominent jaw. Long limbs and a broad ribcage. It was a Skeleton! And not just any Skeleton either!

"Hey there, buddy! Long time, no see!" With all of his trepidation gone, Sans let out the breath he had been holding and with a little bit more of a spring to his step, he approached the unresponsive figure, removing his lab coat and draping it over the Skeleton as if to offer it warmth . . . or maybe just to cover its nakedness. "When did they move you in here? Is that why I couldn't find you?" He easily found a suitable resting place beside the immobile figure and settled in quickly next to his best comedic test subject.

He knew the Skeleton would not talk back. In fact, it had been inactive for quite some time and Sans knew it. In fact, on nights he couldn't sleep, he would make his way down to the lab just to find it so he could have someone to talk to. It made the best audience when he wanted to work out the best delivery on a new joke and it made the best listener when he needed someone to vent to.

For not having any ears, this Skeleton listened better and more intently than any of the others would. Sans didn't feel comfortable enough with the others to really divulge the things on his mind. And even Dr. Gaster wouldn't be able to listen completely without imposing his own ideas and making suggestions for solutions to whatever it was Sans was talking about. He supposed that was the doctor's job after all, but sometimes, Sans didn't need a doctor to help "fix" his problems. He needed a friend to listen to them.

That's sort of what this guy's role had become. Ever since it suddenly stopped functioning, the Skeleton had sort of transformed into Sans' part-time worry doll. It would never try to offer solutions, or find justification in life, or try to change the subject to something more pleasant, or try to find ways to distract him, or pointlessly tell him to "cheer up" and Sans supposed that's what he liked about its company.

"It really has been a long time since I've been in to see you, hasn't it?" Sans sighed as he leaned his skull back to rest against the wall behind him. It felt nice to just let his body go heavy as he sank comfortably beside the Skeleton. "I'm really sorry about that, bro. just got really busy, y'know? Gaster's got us all worked up over 'spring cleanin' and all. You know what that means right?"

Sans waited for the response he knew he wasn't going to get. He used the pause to try to stifle a yawn. It was starting to get late, almost 1:00 am. Normally, the time would not have been much of an issue, but Sans hadn't been sleeping well recently and only got about two hours of sleep the night before. Not only that, but all of the organizing and cataloging for Spring Cleaning was starting to catch up to him. He really did need this break.

"Yup, that's right." Sans sighed putting on his best announcer voice, "We're clearing house. Everything must go. Gaster says it makes for a better work environment and it helps clear the mind so we can focus more on our projects. I dunno though. I kinda like a little bit of organized clutter, you know what I mean? Keeps me from feeling too 'down in the dumps'."

Sans chuckled a little to himself as he let his eyes close. The chuckling became a thoughtful hum.

"I wonder what he's gonna have me do. To be honest, I'm a little worried about it. Normally, it's just more of the stuff that we've been doing today. Salvaging materials, burning what we don't need, reorganizing what's left. This year though, hmm . . . somethin' just feels a bit off. Gaster's had a lot of "special projects" from the king. I dunno much about them though, seem like a 'royal' pain in the ass if you ask me."

The Skeleton remained silent.

"Yeah, you're right, bud. That one wasn't really good."

Sans chuckled to himself as he stood once again to continue his task. "Yeah, yeah, I know. I should get back to work before I end up spending the night down here with you."

With a bit more energy, now that he had good company, Sans was able to sort through the final two boxes and categorize the contents. Dr. Gaster was right. Just about everything in here was complete junk. Broken tools old scribbles from projects long-since scrapped or completed. Some old drawings Alphys must have done. He could tell because of all of the giant eyes and dramatic romantic scenes the characters were drawn in. There were even a few pages that had been heavily scribbled out with the word "Baka" written repeatedly over the content. Just through the scribbles, Sans could just make out . . . Wait . . . Were those two . . . And in the corner there, was that his . . . why was it glowing . . . or wait . . . tentacles . . . ?

Sans quickly closed the sketch book, fighting off an insistent blush. Okay, he could've gone the rest of his life without knowing that Alphys kid could draw like that. Wasn't she a bit young to be thinking about all that anyway?

He peeked a look over to the other Skeleton lounging against the wall. "Well, I'll tell you what. You really dodged a bullet there. 'Anime' as well consider this item gone . . . unless, what do you think? You think Alphys might want it back?"

His friend remained silent.

"Yeah, maybe so. But I'll have to ask her on the down-low." He gave the book to the other Skeleton for safe keeping.

One more box.

And . . . It was full of toys and children's clothing . . . Why would a box like this be in here. Why would Gaster have any use for it? The only thing Sans could think was that maybe he was saving it to give to Prince Asriel for his birthday, but that wasn't for another few months . . . Or maybe it was for the other child . . . Whatever their name was.

Well, either way, the clothes would soon be too small for Asriel and the toys were too juvenile. Though he might find some use for the shovel and the bucket. Maybe he could help the king with his gardening. Sans gave that to his assistant as well. Child shoes, again, too small for Asriel . . . Did Asriel even wear shoes? What about the other child? Whatever. Trash.

"Well, that's everything." Sans announced. "We should be set for tomorrow. Unless I'm forgetting something." He made a quick survey of the room. Everything seemed to be together and organized in their respective piles.

"I guess my work here is done." Sans grinned, shooting another look to the Skeleton waiting for judgement on the ground next to the pile of trash. Sans' smile fell immediately when he remembered. "Oh yeah . . . you had special instructions, didn't you?"

Tentatively, Sans took a kneeling position next to his friend. Remembering the sign around its neck, he fished it out from under the collar of his lab coat. Lifting it into his fingers, he read the special message, tilting the paper toward the light and squinting to see it properly.

"Project: P-497305. Status Failure. Instructions: Destroy abomination A.S.A.P. Burn in core at next Spring Cleaning. Leave no trace."

Sans' face fell once again. "Woah," He sighed, the gravity hitting hard as if his very soul had been pinned to the ground. "I guess someone really wasn't happy with your results. Let's take a look-see."

Going through the pages in his clipboard, Sans found the correct project number, but instead of the series of letters and numbers, he had scratched it out and written a name.

"Aw man. It looks like one day you just up and stopped responding to stimuli of any kind. Why? What happened? Either way, I guess Gaster decided to nix you . . . Kinda sucks if you ask me."

Sans thought it over and let out a breath. "I mean, I can see why he'd want to decommission you . . . But 'abomination' is a bit harsh, don't you think?"

That heavy feeling was firmly setting in. He flipped through the charts and results. Each chart showed the same thing in the Skeleton's progress: a slow but steady start, the phase where it skyrocketed, the stagnation, and the instant where it sharply plummeted far below the lowest point allowed. From there, the tests never took another turn and following failure after failure, the subject collapsed and hadn't moved since. Eventually, the project was scrapped and the Skeleton was thrown into storage until Sans found it.

Sans hummed to himself looking between the conclusions and the subject. "Seriously, though. You started off so strongly and you had so much potential. Heh, I know Gaster was really rootin' for ya . . ." Sans' voice and his tone fell. ". . . and you know what? So was I."

He hung his head, trying to sort out the thoughts swimming around in his skull. Tentatively, Sans extended his reach forward to rest his hand atop the unresponsive skull. "But still, you can't argue against results like these . . . I just . . . wish we could've pinpointed what went wrong before now . . . What happened, bro? Why did you suddenly stop responding? Hmm . . . Well, whatever the reason . . . I'm really sorry. Maybe if I'd been more hands on with you, I could've found a way to help you. But now . . . It just feels like . . . Like somehow I failed you."

More than anything, it's that overwhelming sense of failure that really hits Sans hard. There's a tightening in his throat and chest that he can't begin to describe, like he was being choked by the throat and punched in the gut at the same time. To top it off came the stinging from his eye sockets. He had felt it only a few times since becoming Gaster's apprentice. Even so, he recognized the feeling of onset tears and he refused to become their submissive victim once again. He had to counter this crushing, crippling feeling before it overtook him completely.

"Hey," Sans cheered half-heartedly through a plastered false smile. "before I head off, how about I tell you one for the road?" Sans is absolutely certain that if Gaster or any of the other assistants were around they would groan in irritation and they would even cover their ears rather than listen to another terrible pun. And Gaster . . . Gaster was finally starting to piece it together why Sans would tell his jokes in the first place. At first he would laugh and even join him in telling jokes, contributing a few of his own gems, but slowly, he began to realize a pattern in the frequency. After a while, his laughter turned to worry and his contributions turned into suggestions and distractions.

"Sans," He would say with a bit of trepidation in his approach, "We're so close to a breakthrough. This isn't the time for that. Here, come help me with this project for a while."

Sans knew that Gaster meant well by trying to take his mind off of whatever it was and distracting him, but . . . it really wasn't . . . helping at all.

Sans sighed and looked back to his Skeleton friend with a faint smile in place.

"Hey," he began again, "Have you ever heard the one about the tar monster who quit his job in Hotland and moved to Snowdin?"

Again, he waited for the Skeleton's lack of response before he continued.

"No? Well, he loves it there! Not that he had much of a choice. He got really 'attached' to the place."

The coping mechanism was working a bit. He let out a slight chuckle, choking back any of his own emotion and touching his skull against the motionless one. A little bit of that heavy feeling began to lift away as his audience took priority.

"Heh-Heh, yeah." He began again, his tone a bit brighter, "He 'stuck' around town so long that he ended up taking a new job as a snowman. I heard he's a pretty 'cool dude' now. 'Snow' use fighting your true calling, am I right?"

In his head, Sans could feel the groans of the other lab assistants and the suppressed chuckle from Gaster before he would clear his throat and offer up a distraction. But they weren't his audience now, his Skele-friend was. And he gave no protest to the jokes. No, he didn't laugh, but he didn't push him away either.

"Yeah, I thought you might like that one." Sans sighed and pat the other's head before gathering up the things he set down and made to stand. He removed the lab coat last and draped it over his arm.

"Geez, look at me," He muttered, "blubbering over a science project- and a dud at that. Heh, maybe I really should be getting to bed. Big day tomorrow and all . . . And I don't wanna over sleep and miss out on all the 'fun'."

But for some reason, Sans remained glued to the spot, unable to leave his friend behind. He took another look down to his clipboard and the name he'd written there.

"No harm in telling you about this, right? But it's gonna have to stay our secret, okay?"

The other Skeleton didn't utter a word.

"Your cooperation is greatly appreciated." Sans chuckled. "Anyway, you know Gaster doesn't like us naming our projects, right? Just in case they fail. I guess he thinks we'll end up getting too attached to them or something. Now wherever he got such a ridiculous idea, I have no clue . . . But . . . Either way . . . I guess he was right. I mean just look at me. I'm standing here in the dark telling you all my juiciest secrets like you can hear me or something."

Sans sighed, "You see, truth is, Gaster's not all that great when it comes to penmanship. I mean, he has to translate his assignments from Wingdings into a language the rest of us could read, so I guess it's too be expected. Anyway, when I first saw your project number- written in Gaster's scrawl- I almost couldn't read it. P-497305. It was so disjointed and sloppy that it kinda looked like a name to me.

"I thought he was playing a joke, giving you a name to match his, or maybe mine. Heh, he shot that idea down quick, fast, and in a hurry. Turns out, he's just got sloppy handwriting. He started typing out the assignments after that. Well, even after he corrected me, I still used the name in my own notes. And I think it's a pretty cool name to be honest.

"So, I guess what I'm trying to say here, I mean since this is probably the last time I'll get to tell you so, I just wanted to say, thank you for being here . . . and for putting up with me. You really have been a great audience . . . Thanks, Papyrus."

It was the first time he'd ever said the name out loud, and the thought of it being said in the open was a little foreign to him, but still, it felt a little relieving to get it out there.

The Skeleton . . . Papyrus remained silent.

"Well, I guess that's it then." Sans sighed, turning his back to Papyrus and heading for the door. He was ready for bed and at least three hours of rest before having to get up again for "Spring Cleaning"

"G'night, bro. I'll see you around." Sans' fabricated smile faltered once again as he said the words, "Or, y'know. Maybe not."

With a final look over his shoulder, Sans closed the storage room doors where the heavy locks clicked into place, leaving the room in complete darkness.

Sans went to bed that night with a max of 5 HP. He didn't even notice he had lost one.

* * *

Hours later in the pitch darkness of the final storage room, it was just as still and as quiet as Sans had left it. And normally there would be no reason to return to this scene at all if not for the sudden twitch. It went completely unnoticed; there was no one around to witness it. But in the corner of the room, hidden behind boxes and old junk, a bony finger began to twitch. It hadn't moved at all in the past year and a half, but suddenly, for no notable reason whatsoever, it stirred.

With a bit of effort, the Skeleton was able to clench its hand and it even made a noise. It groaned as if trying to wake itself up.

The groaning sound began to gather more and more of a pattern. Slowly, but surely, those patterns became tiny words. The Skeleton had never spoken before, so it had no way of knowing if its words made sense or if they were being received by anyone.

"B . . . Br. . . ." the Skeleton groaned, testing out its voice, "P . . . Pa . . . Pa . . . russss."

If anyone were around, they would have been taking frantic notes or yelling down the hall in an excited attempt to wake Dr. Gaster. Or recording the Skeleton's movements and speech trying to decipher it. But because there was no one around, there was no witness to the miraculous resurrection of P-497305 or of the first time in over a year that its dull eyes opened. They only opened halfway and they couldn't register anything beyond the seemingly endless darkness, but they were finally opened.

No one recorded its first spoken words.

"Br . . . Brooo . . . Where . . . Pap . . . Pap- russss . . . Papyrus . . . Bro where . . . ?"

* * *

 **A.N.:** **Sorry, I didn't mean for this update to take so long, but there were a few details I needed to iron out. I also decided to play around a little with speech and dialogue and have come to a few decisions.**

 **I know it's canon that Gaster and Papyrus speak in all caps, but I've decided to forego that idea for the moment for the sake of your eyes/ears. Papyrus still might after he starts to really learn to speak. I haven't quite decided that yet. But Gaster will not speak in all caps.**

 **I _have_ decided to do a little detail work on Sans, however. This will require me to go back and edit the first chapter slightly, but let's see if you can figure out the idea I'm going for here. It's subtle, but you guys are observant. I'm sure you can figure it out.**

 **Anyway, I'll see you in Chapter 3!**


	3. Good Morning, Old Friend

**AN: Man, sorry this took so long. I meant to have at least something up last week. Heh, and you would think that with Spring Break and all, it would have happened, but NOOO! And really this chapter doesn't even have everything I wanted to have in it, but it was starting to run long, so I figured I'd post _something_ for you to read rather than have a disproportionately sized gap between chapters and no bird to carry you across. You could call this "filler" or you could call it a "set up" to some of the main content. either way, I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 _ **Good Morning, Old Friend**_

It had been such a peaceful night too . . .

How in all hells did it come to "this"? It was supposed to be over! It was supposed to be finished! They were supposed to have been able to pick up in the morning after a good night's rest and finished cleaning house. They should have been able to quickly dispose of the junk and move on with life. It was supposed to take a day at maximum . . .

But NO! Here he was, absolutely zero sleep and trudging through the extensive hallways searching for whatever the hell it was that tripped the alarm system.

Blaring sirens screeched and the bright warning lights flashed a horrendous red as Dr. Gaster stalked through the walkways searching high and low for whatever it was that was causing so much of a commotion so early in the morning.

And it didn't take magic to figure that Sans was probably sleeping right through it. Not that Gaster blamed him. He would have been as well if it were up to him. Unless . . . Was Sans the _cause_ of the alarm? Gaster supposed it was possible with his strange (if a bit envy- inducing) ability to fall asleep just about anywhere. It was entirely possible that Sans had set the alarm, fallen asleep somewhere and then woke up and decided to make his way to bed, forgetting that he had already set the alarm.

But for God's sake, turn that damned noise OFF once you heard it!

Or was he in danger!? Did he encounter something in the storage unit they didn't foresee and was caught unprepared and unaware? Gaster quickened his pace. If that was the case, he had to find Sans immediately and help him subdue . . . whatever was going on.

Gaster groaned as a slight throbbing in his skull alerted him to an oncoming migraine. Maybe it wasn't even Sans. Maybe it was just a hiccup in the program. God, he hoped so. Then he could go back upstairs and get some rest.

Ugh, whatever! As long as he could turn that damned siren off! The readings from his office said that the disturbance was centered down in the sub-basement. Well that _was_ where he left Sans to finish up that last room. That small nagging voice that thought that maybe his apprentice needed him after all lit a match under him and as he thought about it again, his brisk pace became more of a jog.

Taking the last elevator down, Gaster could already feel there was something extremely off. There was less of a chill than there had been earlier, or maybe that was because of the welling frustration. He had even left his lab coat upstairs, discarded on his desk chair having removed it hours before. He surprised himself when he realized that he didn't really need it, maybe it was due to his jog as well.

Rounding the corner of the last hallway, Gaster saw exactly what had been causing that awkward feeling.

Somehow, Sans had left the door to the storage room open. There was a noticeable gap between the double doors, showing a glimpse into the shadowing darkness inside.

If he _was_ still down here . . . and the alarm was still going . . . then . . .

"Sans!" The doctor called out, being cautious with his steps and slowing down to that brisk walk from before. "Sans, answer me! Are you down here!?"

The sirens continued to wail and the lights continued to flash as Gaster pressed onward, but there was no answer from his apprentice. He supposed it wasn't that uncommon and everyone was subject to a minor slip-up like a door not being completely locked before setting an alarm. He couldn't really blame Sans for that . . . even if it was EXTREMELY inconvenient.

With this thought to calm him, Gaster let out a steadying breath as he approached the pin pad against the far wall and expertly keyed in his override code. Immediately, the wailing and the blaring ceased and the next breath that was released was one of relief. Finally, some quiet.

He would just have to remind Sans to double check all doors after he had closed them. Well, it really was no big deal. It was an easy fix and afterward, he could go back upstairs and perhaps get a little rest before the big day.

Gaster pulled on the door to get it to close, already mentally preparing himself for the heaviness. When the door moved with the ease of a pound of feathers, his face fell.

"How in the world . . . ?"

He examined the door again and only realized then the gaping hole ripped through the inner workings of the door's core structure. Someone or some _thing_ had sabotaged the door. He took a look at the other door and found a similar disemboweling. The locks and mechanisms that made these doors so secure had been completely removed. No wonder the alarms were so insistent! This definitely wasn't Sans' handiwork!

Pushing the door once again, the metallic barrier gave way too easily. It fell off of its hinges with a creak and toppled forward into the room, demolishing all that happened to be in the way. Boxes were flattened and equipment was smashed and Gaster's nerves tightened in the resulting crash.

Maybe he'd turned the alarm off too soon.

Reaching up to a device pinned to his shirt, he pressed a button and the Overhead System clicked to life.

"SANS!" The voice boomed from every strategically placed overhead speaker, "SANS TO SUB-BASEMENT STORAGE! SANS, TO ME AT ONCE!" Gaster then flicked his wrist toward the keypad, shocking the alarm system back to life. Once again, the sirens began to wail and the flashing red light began to steadily blind Gaster.

From behind him, through the intermittent screams of the siren, there was a shuffling of feet and a low groaning sound.

"Ah! There you are, Sans!" Gaster sighed, a bit of comfort washing over him at the speedy response. He turned around to face his apprentice, "I was not expecting you to—"

Gaster's eyes went wide and he may have even gasped in his shock. Immediately, his hands were up in defense and he summoned his magic to the surface of his being, letting it pool in his hands, ready to be released at a moment's notice.

"You!" He accused, backpedaling and nearly tripping over the fallen door, "How the Hell!?"

* * *

Somewhere in the back of his skull there was a continuous ringing haunting the little bit of sleep Sans had found. He thought he even heard Gaster's voice in there, but it faded an instant later and the ringing sound followed soon after, so Sans didn't move.

That relief was short-lived when the ringing started up once again with a renewed vigor. After the few minutes of silence, the noise seemed even louder and it startled the snoring Skeleton awake.

Blinking out of his stupor, Sans peered through the darkness of his room. In all honesty, there wasn't much to it: a mattress, a corner where he kept his extra sets of clothing and the scraps of some personal projects he had been working on in his free time. In the far corner of the room, there was a bit of trash piling up. He figured he should probably do something about that soon.

"SANS!" Gaster's voice boomed, and he realized that this was the same tone of voice he'd heard nudging at the corners of his consciousness. Damn, how long had he been calling? He seemed downright frantic! What the Hell was going on? "SANS! TO SUB-BASEMENT STORAGE IMMEDIATELY! DAMN IT, SANS, WHERE ARE YOU!?"

That got his attention. Gaster NEVER used that kind of language unless the situation expressly called for it.

"I should probably get down there, then." He sighed to himself, grabbing his coat and slipping on his shoes. "The sub-basement, huh? Didn't I just lock that place up? Heh, maybe I really should've spent the night down there with Papyrus after all."

Sans had to hurry through the walkways and hallways in order to make decent time. The elevators on the other hand, there wasn't much he could do about.

Stepping out into the lowest level, the sirens seemed even louder and the flashing lights seemed even more blinding. If he had ears, he would have covered them or plugged them with socks or SOMETHING, but as it was, he could only try to ignore it as the sound resonated within his skull, but it was starting to get really annoying. He must be getting close.

"Hey, Gaster!" Sans called hoping to gain the doctor's attention and maybe convince him to turn off the siren, "Dr. G! Where are you!? What's going on down here?"

Turning that fateful final corner, all of Sans' initial questions were answered upon first glance. The sight, however, only raised several more.

There Gaster was, his arms outstretched, his guard fully raised and his gaze completely focused ahead. It looked like he may be preparing an attack.

The object of his glare was several feet before him, helplessly pinned to the wall by strong magic. Bony fingers stretched outward as the rest of the Skeleton's body was rendered completely immobile, a faint green glow surrounding it.

In other words, Gaster had probably found him wandering, totally freaked out, and set off the alarm to call for help. As an extra precaution, he'd immobilized the subject and made it impossible to escape.

"Bro . . ." The Skeleton groaned, his reaching hand becoming almost desperate when he noticed Sans approaching. "My . . . bro . . ."

Holy crap! He can talk!?

"For the final time!" Gaster hissed, "You have no brother! You are not even supposed to be _functioning_! Now answer me! How did you destroy the storage door!? How did you regain consciousness? How did you . . . I know you can speak. Just answer me and I'll let you rest!"

Sans' eyes went wide. Woah! Woah! Hold on! "Let you rest" was Gaster-speak for "terminate." Was he still planning on _killing_ Papyrus even though there was evidence that he could be rehabilitated and maybe even reinstated!? Yeah, he may be a little . . . unruly . . . and holy crap, what the heck happened to the door!?

"Hold up, Gaster!" Sans called rushing the last few steps to be at the doctor's side. He even placed a hand on his arm in an attempt to lower his hand and ease him off of an attack.

"Sans!" Gaster exclaimed, over the shrieking sound of the alarm and snapping his head toward the other skeleton. "Where were you!? Were you aware of this!?"

Sans shrugged, "Nope." He answered a bit more nonchalantly than the situation called for, "I mean I saw him earlier, but he was as unresponsive as ever. Even as I was locking up."

"My . . . Brother. I want . . . My brother."

"Sans, explain! Do you have any idea what he is . . . What IT is talking about?

Sans turned his attention briefly to Papyrus, his eyes studying his immobile friend. "Can't say I do. Was he always asking for his brother?"

"He . . . IT has. From the moment I found it wandering the halls. It seems to have imagined one for itself and it's been searching to find him. Where it got such a ridiculous notion, I have no idea."

"Interesting." Sans mused stepping in front of Gaster's hand and steadily approaching Papyrus where Gaster had him pinned a good foot or so off of the ground.

"Hey there, buddy." He began with a bit of a smirk to his tone and his face, "How's it hangin'?"

"Sans," Gaster groaned, "Is now really the time?"

Sans looked back over his shoulder with his signature faux smile firmly pasted in place as he raised an open palm to stay the doctor's criticism. Gaster's frown remained firm, but he nodded all the same, understanding Sans' motive. "Proceed with caution, Sans." He warned, "This thing is dangerous. It tore out the inner locking mechanisms of the security doors and it still has the knowledge of how to manifest magic and create attacks. One wrong step and you could—"

"I understand." Sans answered calmly still approaching Papyrus. "Thanks, G. Now could we please turn OFF that siren? That thing could wake the firggin' _dead_!"

Reluctantly, Gaster obliged, flicking his wrist toward the pin pad again as a separate floating hand sprung into existence for the sole purpose of disabling the alarm before dissipating soundlessly.

"That's better." Sans sighed as he chanced a few more steps before starting back at the Skeleton. "Hey, listen. You were project . . . P-49 . . . 7 . . . 305, right? Geez, that's a long number. And it doesn't really roll off the tongue, does it? We should really get you a name badge or something. Look, I don't know how or why you suddenly woke up, but you're really freakin' the boss out here. So here's the deal. I'm gonna see if I can convince him to put you down, and then we can see if we can work this out like civilized . . . monster-beings.

"Sans!" Gaster snapped, "Have you gone insane!? There's no way we can let that thing loose!"

From the wall, there was a low groan, "Name . . . Not . . . Not mine."

Both Gaster and Sans silenced, stopping stone cold as they watched. A bewildered, "Well, that's new." Escaped Gaster's mouth and the green glow slowly ebbed away as he set his target carefully back on the ground. "You have a name, do you? What is it?"

"My name . . . is . . . Pap . . . Pap-rus."

Sans stilled, knowing exactly where this was headed.

"My name is . . . Papyrus."

"And tell me . . . Papyrus." Gaster struggled with the name, but kept a criticizing tone to his voice. No doubt, he had put the puzzle pieces together as well. "Who gave you that name?"

When Papyrus spoke again, his voice was very different. The word he said was garbled and gravelly, almost as if someone had taken the word and run it through the blender. Gaster recognized it immediately as wingdings.

"Is that so?" Gaster continued. "Now, Papyrus. I understand you've been looking for your 'brother'. Can you tell us his name?"

Papyrus nodded in answer and spoke again in the strange language. The word he spoke was identical to the first.

"Sans."

* * *

 **AN: And I think I'll end it there for now. Not only is it late . . . but it's short too? Dang, I'm sorry. Well, at least it's something to suck on while I get dinner ready! I normally try to leave it at some sort of "revelation" but honestly, we all knew this coming eventually, right?**

 **So with the addition of a name and the discovery of his attachment to Sans, can Papyrus' fate be changed? Or will Dr. Gaster insist on continuing with his eradication? And what about Sans? He broke one of the fundamental rules Gaster expressly laid out. What will the ramifications be? Well, I don't know? We'll have to see in Chapter 4. See you there!**


	4. Q m Cp dt

**A.N: Hey there and welcome back! Here we are at Chapter 4. I just wanted to take a moment and extend a huge THANK YOU to you guys for sticking with me! You have no idea how much I appreciate it! Thank you for reading, for responding, for reviewing, and for returning! I'm so glad you guys are enjoying the story so far and I'll do everything I can to keep it entertaining. THANKS SO MUCH, GUYS!**

 **Okay, on to chapter 4**

* * *

 **Chapter 4**

 _ **Q = m C**_ _ **p**_ _ **dt**_

To say "Gaster was upset" was an understatement. To say "Gaster was upset was an understatement" was litotes in its most pure form. To say that Gaster was seething was . . . a little closer to the truth, but it was still not strong enough of a word.

But being the professional he was, however, the doctor stood firmly in his spot and soaked in all of the new information with very little change in his composure. His expression had gone completely cold and his breathing had gotten slower and more controlled.

"Of course." Was all he said.

Sans couldn't pretend not to notice the stressed undertone and knowing that he was the cause in triggering this change in Gaster, Sans had to avert his eyes to look at the ground.

An apology was out of the question and really, what good would an apology do in a situation like this?

"We can deal with the broken doors at a later time." Gaster announced with an even tone. "There's nothing we can do to fix it now, so there is no use worrying about it. Instead, how about we focus on the variables we can, identify, isolate, observe, and record."

The tone in Gaster's voice changed and his speech sounded a bit more like he was giving a lecture than speaking to anyone in particular. "Project 497305 has reactivated after nearly two years of inactivity. Not only this, but he also . . . _it_ also seems to have been aware of its surroundings the entire time it was considered inactive."

Sans knew the doctor wasn't directly speaking to him so much as he was stating the facts for his own records and he was almost certain that somewhere, floors and levels above where they were now, there were disembodied hands furiously taking the dictation down for Gaster's notes.

"P-497305 has not only gained consciousness, but it is cognitive as well. I hesitate to call it sentience. He listens, interprets and responds to speech and he seems to have picked up a little bit from everyone. He's adopted some of Sans' vernacular and moments ago, he even spoke in wingdings. It cannot be said that he . . . that . . . _it_ is not receptive to stimuli even if it does not immediately respond to it.

"As of right now, the specimen . . . I suppose it prefers to be called Papyrus now- another thing for which to thank my assistant - is convinced it is a relative to Sans and has seemed to have significantly calmed its rampage as a result of his presence. It seems to have developed a familiarity to Sans. This is something I must look into a bit later."

Sans listened to the statements, taking them in and making mental notes. Gaster said he would have to 'look into it a bit later ' which meant good things for Papyrus, didn't it? It meant that Gaster wouldn't do away with him just yet. Good. Sans had NOT been looking forward to that. He let a little of that worry drop away.

Letting out a long breath and steadying himself, Gaster raised his eyes to meet Sans'.

"Sans, it seems we have a need to run a few late-night tests. If we are to learn how to handle this fiasco, these tests, I fear, cannot wait until morning. I want you to escort . . . Papyrus upstairs and prep . . . it for the circuit."

"The whole circuit. G, are you sure he needs all that? That's gonna take forever?"

"Well, then it's a good thing you were able to take a nap. You'll need all the energy you can muster."

Sans held back the "mustard" pun he had in reserve for moments like these, finding that perhaps, this wasn't the best time. Man, mustard actually sounded pretty good right then too. No, but ketchup was better and he figured he'd need something strong after a night like this. Well, it would have to wait at least until after the circuit.

Instead, he turned his attention to Papyrus once again. "C'mon, bro." And only then did he actually pay attention to the word. He almost planted the heel of his palm to his face at the realization. Of COURSE that's why Papyrus thought they were brothers! And why Gaster noted that he picked up on Sans' vernacular. Honestly, it just kind of subconsciously slipped out.

"I heard it that time." Sans assured Gaster as he waved off the slip-up. "I'll work on that."

Taking a few more steps back down the hallway, Sans gestured to the other. "Well, let's get going, Papyrus. And you need some clothes, don'cha, bud? How about we see what we can pull together after the circuit. For now, a hospital gown will just have to do."

As Sans and the experiment made their way back toward the elevator, Gaster stayed behind on full surveillance mode. It was amazing just how easily Sans was able to accept that THING and treat it like it was . . . something other than what it was: A failure and a disgrace! A living- maybe "living" was the wrong word for it- testament to everything that was twisted and grotesque and perverse in the field of study they have chosen.

The short of it was, Project 497305 should never have been attempted. It was doomed to fail from the start. "Papyrus" should have never existed.

And now that it did . . . it would have to be dealt with . . . one way or another.

The unforeseen problem in this scenario was Sans. He couldn't understand just how terrible that creature really was. If he could, there was no doubt in Gaster's mind that he wouldn't hesitate to dispose of it just as quickly . . . or at very least, he would be able to see why it was slated for a date with the Core.

"But just look at him." Gaster muttered to himself, "Ushering that . . . abomination around like it's one of us. Not only that but he's given it a NAME- and a _complementary_ name too. Damn it, Sans. How can you simultaneously be so brilliant and so dense!?"

Gaster cradled his temples as he sighed deeply to himself. While Sans was busy with the circuit, he could be finding a way to decommission "Papyrus" once and for all. There just had to be a way. And if he could spare Sans' conscience at all, that would be preferable.

Wait a minute . . . in a situation like this one, Sans' conscience shouldn't matter at ALL. In fact, based on what he has been able to see from it, all blame for the revival of this project landed squarely on Sans. They still had no idea why it suddenly sparked to life again after so long, but if Gaster's hypothesis proved correct, Sans was directly, (if inadvertently) responsible.

The more the doctor thought about it, the more he came to realize that close to the only way this could justly play out is if Sans did the honors of decommissioning Papyrus himself. Maybe it would teach him exactly why it was Gaster told him and all of his assistants NOT to grow so attached to the projects.

He just hoped Sans hadn't invested too much time and effort in that failure.

He just hoped that Sans hadn't been banking on its resurrection.

He just . . .

Hoped . . .

HOPE . . .

THAT'S IT! That _had_ to be it! That's the only thing that made any sense!

He had to test his theory! He had to catch up with Sans and Cor . . . Pap . . . to that THING!

* * *

"Um, Doc . . . ?" Sans hesitated, "What's this all about?"

He scratched at his skull and at the nodes attached to it. A device had been clipped to his left index finger as well. As much as Sans wanted to just tear it all off and leave, there had to be a point to all of this and since Gaster wasn't answering, he would just have to stick around and find out.

Damn that doctor. He knew him too well.

"Just hold on, Sans." Gaster assured as he attached nodes to Papyrus as well. The taller Skeleton was seated after having received a hospital gown and a pair of slippers. So far, he had remained silent since the corridor and was on pure observation mode. Undoubtedly, he was curious about this new round of tests. He was used to being poked and prodded, observed and documented, hooked up to machines and made to perform all sorts of tasks- whatever the circuit had to offer.

But never had he had someone else to perform them with. And with Sans, sitting there next to him in obvious discomfort to being in the same situation, he was curious as to why he suddenly had a partner.

Papyrus cocked his head and spoke, attempting to make the garbled speech seem comforting to his brother. The look Sans gave him, however, was contemplative and questioning. He hadn't understood a single word had he?

"He says not to worry." Gaster answered automatically, "He says it's never really that bad." The doctor hesitated for a moment, frowning when he noticed his folly. He quickly brushed it off. "I find it incredible that wingdings comes so naturally to it. We have only heard it speak twice so far, but everything else it says is broken. It seems to be more fluent in wingdings than any other language and it is the language to which it reverts."

"I dunno, G." Sans shrugged with a smirk, "Doesn't seem so odd to me. I mean, you were the one who began the project, alone I might add, before you introduced him to the rest of us. You're also notorious for thoroughly dictating your notes so you can work uninterrupted. Maybe Paps here was taking it all in too while you were working on him."

Sans shot a look over to his new friend and was careful as he watched Papyrus' movements, taking note in every subtle change. It seemed Papyrus was watching him just as closely. During this time, Papyrus hadn't taken his eyes off of Sans and he watched the way he interacted with the doctor. Soon, he came to a conclusion on his own.

"Wingdings . . . ?" He questioned, his eyes narrowing as he regarded Sans.

At first, Gaster snapped his head up purely in response to being called by his first name. Why his parents decided to name him after their native language he would never understand. In times like these, it got especially confusing . . . and irritating.

But the studying look on the specimen's face while it regarded Sans was answer enough to what it meant by the question.

"No," Gaster answered in response, lowering his head to continue his work, "Sans does not speak wingdings."

"Oh," Papyrus answered with a hint of actual emotion to the tone in his voice. He seemed . . . disappointed? "I . . . thought . . ."

"You _thought_?" Gaster chortled in disbelief, raising his eyes once again as he finished securing the detection device to Papyrus' finger.

Papyrus responded with a slight nod. "I thought . . . If I could . . . talk to Brother."

"Okay, bud." Sans interjected. "I'm actually gonna have to stop you right there. As cool as it would be, I'm actually _not_ your brother. Never had a brother, never will. Simple as that."

Papyrus stalled at Sans' words and finally broke eye contact with him. He lowered his head and his shoulders rolled forward in a display the others weren't sure he'd ever seen before. He was sad. Whether he was just going through the motions because he'd seen them before or because he was actually feeling the emotion and the feeling dictated his movements still remained to be seen.

"Woah," Sans sighed, a part of him seizing at the sight. It was actually almost physically painful to see. "I didn't mean to upset you there, buddy. H-how about this. If it'd help you feel better, I can try to learn wingdings." Sans winked at Papyrus for good measure. "Heh, that way I could finally decipher Gaster's code and figure out all the dirty secrets he has hidden around. And I'll finally be able to understand those terrible things he mutters under his breath when he thinks I'm not paying attention!"

"Sans," Gaster warned, "Don't go making promises you can't keep."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, _dad._ " Sans shrugged, "I never said it was a promise. Besides, I really have been curious about it anyway and it's not like I could just bug you about it. You're a busy guy, Gaster."

The doctor let out a long breath as he stood to boot up the monitor so they could finally get the tests underway. "Yes, Sans." He said a little despondently, "Yes you could have. And I would have been more than happy to oblige . . . I thought you knew that . . . Well, if you're really serious about it. I could help you get started."

"Tch, you know me." Sans answered, "When have I ever been serious about anything?"

Gaster hesitated for a moment before nodding in agreement. "You do have a point. Now sit tight while I get this up and running."

"Eh, fine." Sans conceded. Papyrus nodded once.

For a few minutes afterward, the room went quiet as each Skeleton receded into his own thoughts.

Sitting on the edge of the examination table, neither Sans nor Papyrus could touch the floor and in an act of boredom, Sans began to kick his legs. In no time at all, Papyrus followed suit, kicking in time with Sans' movements. Seeing the response, Sans felt a brief smile that didn't quite reach all of his features.

No matter his thoughts about Papyrus, Gaster had managed to hit on one thing like a hammer to the head of a nail. Papyrus really was amazing and his capacity for learning was just as astounding.

As a bit of an experiment, Sans began to drum his fingers over his kneecaps. He intentionally made no specific rhythm to the drumming, but Sans wanted to test something.

Almost immediately, Papyrus began to tap his fingers with him. Not only did he pick up on the action, but the pattern as well. He was able to keep up with Sans' tapping and predict when the next tap would be. There it was, the rhythm Sans didn't even make. And Papyrus was able to see it, and imitate it. He really was incredible!

"Enough of that," Gaster instructed, turning back toward the other two. "Sans, stop encouraging him."

"Heh, sorry, G." Sans grinned with a wink, "It must be all these wires ramping up my natural conductivity."

Gaster put on a face, confused by the words. "Your what?"

"Well, the flow is already natural, that's for sure, but all these wires must make me an even better conductor than I already am. At this point, I couldn't _'resist'_ even if I wanted to."

The joke snuck up on Gaster and before he could stop the effect, he let out a deep laugh. The sound was unbridled, something rich and genuine that Sans hadn't heard in a long time. A response like that was well worth the risk. At the reaction, Sans released a quiet laugh as well.

On the table beside him, Papyrus watched the exchange and even though, he didn't quite understand what it meant, something inside of him resonated with the others and he smiled as well.

"Oh, ha-ha." Gaster answered feigning sarcasm, "Someone cue the rimshot effect. You're a natural ' _Comic, Sans_.' You should consider stand-up."

It was the play on words that surprised Sans the most. He couldn't remember the last time the doctor actually _played_ _along_ with his jokes and puns. It was refreshing to say the least. Gaster needed the laugh more than anyone Sans knew and just seeing him indulge in that laughter was enough for Sans to feel accomplished.

He smiled.

"Hey, who knows?" He answered with a shrug, "If this science thing doesn't work out, maybe I will."

There was a beeping from the monitor and a flicker on the screen. These things almost went unnoticed as Gaster's smile spread.

"Finally." He grinned, "I can use all five fingers!"

Sans' smile became the slightest bit wary. "Five fingers? What for?"

Gaster shook his head. "Never mind that. Right now, the machine is ready."

"About that." Sans began again, his natural curiosity taking over. "What exactly are we testing for?"

"I want to see your current HP." Gaster replied in a very matter-of-fact tone.

"Um . . . Doc?" Sans said slowly, "You do know we don't have to use a machine for that. That's why we use 'CHECK'."

"Ah, yes. But you see, Sans, CHECK is only used in battle situations and only on a single target at a time."

"Yeah, and . . . ?"

"I believe there is a correlation between your power and P-497305's resurrection. But to test that hypothesis, I will need to see both of your HP levels at once."

Sans hummed in thought. "Can't say I get it, but sure. Let's see if you're right."

"Alright," Gaster instructed, turning back toward the machine. "I'll need you both to activate your magic."

"Sure thing." Sans answered, immediately pulling on his reserves. Both of his eyes began to glow a brilliant blue as he called on his latent ability.

At the same time, Papyrus nodded, obeying the order. There was a slight orange flash as the power was called forth, but his eyes didn't hold the same glow Sans' did.

The monitor in front of them flickered again as it began to pick up on the magic being expelled by both Skeletons. It sorted the information as a split screen so both results could be easily read.

Taking up about half of each section was a silhouette of each participant. As the magic coursed through them, the corresponding outline began to glow on the screen. Beneath the body outline was a yellow bar labeled "HP." Almost immediately, Gaster noticed a discrepancy.

"Sans, what happened?" Gaster muttered, "You've lost one . . ."

Sans snapped his head up to read the monitor. Gaster was right again. It looked like his HP bar had gotten even shorter since last time. And this wasn't because of some accident or physical harm. This had been taken off of his Max HP and that . . . couldn't be recovered once it was lost. No amount of sleep or food would be able to bring that back.

"Oh, would you look at that?" Sans hummed again, "Must have dropped it when I wasn't looking."

"Sans, this isn't funny." Gaster urged, and just like that, all the humor from five minutes ago was gone and Gaster was all business once again. "If this keeps up the way it is . . . Sans, you could-"

"I know, I know."

"Sans, this is serious! You can't keep pushing it off like this!"

Sans hung his head, the worry and concern in Gaster's voice cutting through like a knife.

"What am I supposed to do?" Sans asked in a near whisper, "I don't even know what's causing it, much less how to stop it or reverse the effects."

Papyrus turned his head to see the Skeleton beside him, his head lowered and his body curled in on itself. Though he didn't know the name for it, Papyrus knew what the other Skeleton was feeling. He'd felt it too and he knew he didn't want Sans to feel it now.

"Sans?" Papyrus asked reaching out a hand for him, "I can help you, maybe?"

Sans gave a bitter and terse chuckle at the offer, "Hey, thanks, Pap." He answered, "I really appreciate it, but that's impossible. Unless you can find a way to gain HP WITHOUT going completely psycho and racking up EXP, 'cause that's not happening either, bud."

"Don't worry." Papyrus answered, taking Sans' hand within his own, "Papyrus will help."

At the touch, something happened. The spot where their hands touched felt as if it could catch fire and there was a loud rapid beeping coming from the machine where the two of them were hooked up. The beeping quickly became a whirring screech.

"Let go of him!" Gaster demanded, rushing forward to break that _thing_ away from Sans if he had to, but to his surprise, it let Sans go on its own and clasped both hands together, twisting them in a show of embarrassment.

Immediately, the screeching sound stopped, but there was a residual beeping sound that remained. Gaster recognized the sound. With as many live specimens as he'd dealt with over the years . . . hooked up to this same machine, it had become a familiar tune that meant one thing.

Someone's HP was getting dangerously low.

When he looked back to the stats, Gaster saw the one thing he dreaded most about this, the one thing he knew he was going to find.

The short bar under Sans' silhouette had a significant amount of empty space. That space between his max and current HP, showed on screen as a bright pink fill that was still draining! The only yellow remaining was a sliver in the far corner. That creature was siphoning Sans' HP directly out of his body! And if they were still connected when that pink drained down completely . . . if they continued to use magic past that point . . .

"You!" Gaster barked, turning his attention back toward the abomination, "You get away from Sans!"

Papyrus sprang up from his perch, but not of his own will. Surrounding his body was a bright blue aura and without a moment to even register what was going on, Papyrus was lifted from the examination table and forced back toward the door as far as the wire tethers would allow.

"W-wait, Gaster!" Sans huffed, the initial shock of the sudden and unexpected loss of HP was starting to dissipate. He got up from his spot on the table and stood beside it with a little difficulty. "Gaster, it's okay!"

"Shut down your magic, Sans!" Gaster instructed, "If you use it too much now and it eats away at that little bit of HP you have left, you'll die!"

Sans didn't argue. He already knew all of this and didn't need the reminder, but as he tried to dismiss the power, nothing happened. He was stuck.

"Hey, Gaster." He called, toggling his attention between the doctor and the shrinking pink bar on the monitor. A bit of actual concern was laced in with his tone as that pink inched closer to the yellow, "I-I think the off switch is busted."

"What?"

"I can't turn off my magic." He answered more directly.

Gaster kept his glare on Papyrus. His eyes were beginning to glow that same orange color that flashed before. He was still using Sans' magic wasn't he? Gaster decided then that he couldn't be bothered with _how_. He had to cut the flow of magic between the two at once! He prepared a magic attack.

"No!" Sans called, gripping at the collar of his coat, "Papyrus! Turn off your magic, now!"

Papyrus obeyed. The glow in his eyes died and his silhouette faded from the monitor. Directly afterward, Sans did the same. The glow in his eyes finally dimmed and the monitor went dark just as the pink bar was nearing Sans' true HP count: 1.

"Sans!" Gaster called again, this time turning to see his apprentice, "What the Hell do you think you're doing!?"

"it worked, g." Sans grinned, his focus distant as the light in his eyes dulled and he fell heavily forward. He was unconscious before he hit the ground.

* * *

 **A.N.: Okay . . . so that's totally NOT how I was planning on ending that chapter at ALL! It just sorta . . . happened when Papyrus took Sans' hand. But, hey, I can't say I'm complaining. Poor Sans is having such a bad time, though. They all are. No one is happy about this. But, it was nice to see that brief moment where even Gaster could relax a bit and enjoy a little humor!**

 **Speaking of Gaster: WTF, dude!? What's your issue? I know you're worried about Sans, but he can take care of himself. You're being a bit overprotective, don't you think? Why are you so worried about him, anyway? What's your deal?**

 **Who knows, maybe we'll find out in Chapter 5! ^_~**

 ***Oh! Just in case you were wondering, the title of this chapter (Q= m Cp dt) is the equation used when trying to determine the transfer of kinetic energy from one object to another. Usually, heat is the by-product of such a transfer, but in this case the by-product was . . . something completely different.**


	5. Spring Cleaning

_**Chapter 5:**_

 _ **Spring Cleaning**_

It hadn't even been an hour since the train wreck of the examination room. Ever since Sans fell, Gaster felt as if time stopped completely. The young monster still had yet to stir and Gaster thought it very likely that he would be unable to wake himself for a while. The doctor had summoned a bit of his own magic to pick him up and take him off to bed so he could regain his HP in peace. Normally, he would have escorted him himself, but he was _not_ about to leave that _thing_ unsupervised.

Once he was sure Sans was well on his way, he turned back in order to deal with his failure himself.

Of course that was exactly when the first of the other lab assistants began to report in. A chiming sound filled the halls and alerted the doctor that there was someone at the entrance to the lab. Gaster would not have to go and let them in because each monster had their own security code if they needed to enter without him.

Knowing that the assistants were starting to file in and would immediately start searching for their assignments, however, put everything into perspective for Gaster. With the constant excitement of the night, he hadn't even had a chance to sort through the notes or split up the work for Spring Cleaning. And now that Sans was out of commission, he would have to distribute his share among the others or else pick up the slack himself.

Glaring at the offending creature from under heavy eyebrow ridges, Gaster came to a decision. Retribution would have to wait. After all, it was supposed to go out with the rest of the trash later that day anyway. Until then, the room they were in would have to double as a holding chamber.

"Lucky you." Gaster hummed, "It seems time is on your side. You have a few more hours before I come back and deal with you. Until then, you get to wait here and contemplate your sorry existence."

Gaster left, springing a force field to life behind him in order to keep the poor excuse for a monster detained.

"You can stay right there." He sneered, "If there's one thing I'll make sure happens today, I WILL see you burn."

Papyrus hung his head and not for the first time, he directed his attention to his hands, reflecting on what happened and wondering why.

"I'm sorry." He offered timidly, "I would never . . ."

"Don't waste your breath." Gaster hissed, "Instead, I suggest you cherish it while you can. You have very few breaths left."

Papyrus went quiet finding a spot on the examination table to sit and wait for whatever was coming his way. He looked to the spot where Sans was sitting with him less than an hour before. He thought back to the Skeleton who was not his brother and let out a breath. He had been the only one to ever treat him like he was worth something, like maybe he could have been a normal monster. The thought of what he'd done to him- even if he didn't mean to- the thought of never seeing him again weighed on Papyrus.

"Will he be okay?" Papyrus asked, speaking in wingdings as he reached back out toward Sans' empty spot.

Gaster stilled, suddenly resenting the fact this thing could speak in wingdings almost as much as the fact that he was the only other person who could understand.

"What was that?"

"Sans," Papyrus answered, "Will he be alright? Was he badly damaged?"

"'Damaged'," Gaster scoffed, "You nearly killed him. However, I suppose you should be thanking him. If not for him, you would not be here now."

"But will he recover?"

Gaster let out a long breath, choosing his next words carefully. "He will survive you. If you truly wanted to help him, you could give him back the HP you stole from him . . . But that wasn't what I created you to do. It is not in your functions."

"If I could use magic and not hurt him, I would gladly give him back the HP. I didn't mean to take it away from him . . . But . . . I."

Papyrus went silent once again and Gaster looked over his shoulder, curious of what he would say next.

"Could you tell Sans that . . . I am truly sorry. For all of it. For whatever pain I've caused him."

Gaster halted in his actions and in his thoughts. "You are very articulate." He noted, "I admit I'm impressed by how much you have learned during such a brief time."

Papyrus nodded, "Thank you." He said, with his head and his gaze lowered, "I do my best to be as great as I can possibly be. It's . . . it's in my—"

"Papyrus." Gaster sighed composing himself. The least he could do for the doomed creature was call it by the name Sans gave to it, "You were created to be the beacon of light in this dark place. A ray of hope to all monsters. You were meant to be something magnificent- the one to finally break the barrier and free us all from this. 'The Great Liberator' they would have called you."

Papyrus listened intently. If he was supposed to be this wonderful great being, how had his growth been stunted? Why couldn't he still be what Doctor Gaster made him to be- what the other monsters needed him to be?

Was it because of what he did to Sans? Because all he could do was take and he knew nothing about how to give others what they wanted?

Or maybe he just lacked the capacity.

"Doctor Gaster?" Papyrus asked into the growing silence, never looking up, "Do you resent me?"

Gaster didn't even have to think about the response before he spoke, "Yes." He said plainly.

"Why? It can't just be about what happened tonight. You've hated me for a long time now. Was there something I did to offend you? If there was, I'm sorry. I regret making you suffer because of me."

Gaster scoffed, "It's odd to think of you feeling anything at all, much less regret. That's enough. I've got work to do." He began to walk away toward the elevator leading up to the front atrium.

"Doctor Gaster?" Papyrus asked again. As he watched the doctor leave, something else was starting to overtake him, a new feeling he'd never encountered before. Was this what Gaster had called "dread"? Or was it "fear"? Was this what Sans was feeling when he thought he was going to die? Or was this what Gaster was feeling while watching as Sans believed he was about to die? Either way, the feeling fueled Papyrus and once again, he sprung up from his spot, standing and rushing toward the force field only to be stopped in his tracks. "Doctor Gaster!"

Gaster kept walking, never turning back.

"Doctor Gaster, please! I promise I'll try to do a little better. For you and for all monsters . . . for Sans!"

Gaster kept onward wordlessly.

"Please, just tell him what I said. Tell him how sorry I am!"

Still no response.

"Doctor!?"

". . ."

"Doctor Gaster!"

* * *

After greeting the wide-eyed monster who had walked in so early in the morning and informing them that Spring Cleaning would commence as soon as the others had arrived, Gaster hurried to gather the notes everyone had taken the day before and compile them as best he could into something that at least made some kind of sense. Sorting through the project numbers next, he made piles, dealing them out into stacks like playing cards in a game.

In an extra stack, he dealt two projects at a time. That would be his stack with the projects he would have assigned to Sans.

He made sure P-497305 was in that stack.

This took him all the way until the late-comer, Alphys, arrived. She was in such a rush, flinging on her lab coat as she nearly tripped through the door.

"S-sorry I'm late!" the intern panted, trotting the final few steps toward the other assistants. A quick look around told her that by some miracle, she wasn't the last to arrive. "W-where is Sans?" She stammered.

"He'll not be joining us today," Gaster said evenly, already distributing the binders with the list of rooms that had junk and projects slated for disposal.

"Really?" asked another shorter armless monster who was standing near a counter in order to read their list, "It's not like him to be absent. I hope he's okay."

Yet a different monster, taller with long limbs, made a short scoffing sound at the comment. When several eyes turned their way, they knew they would have to elaborate on the gesture.

"Oh, C'mon. You were thinking it too, right? One day without stupid pointless jokes and bad puns. They're getting worse and worse by the day, like even he doesn't believe in them anymore. You know, he should really consider just giving up."

"I dunno . . ." Alphys commented, "I-I think they're pretty punny." She let out a short laugh at her own, severely overused joke.

"Oh, God, please, not another one. Look, Alphys, you're new here, so I'll just say that life's annoying enough already with one wise- cracking monster and it's a relief when we don't have to deal with him. We don't need a second."

"O-Oh," Alphys stammered, "Well, I . . . okay."

"That'll be quite enough of that." Gaster instructed. "Now, this is the only thing I have slated for us to do today. The sooner it gets done, the sooner we can all get some rest."

"Understood." All the underlings rang out in chorus. Every one of them knew exactly where Gaster was coming from. In fact, everyone had noticed the slight change in Gaster's demeanor, in his temper, and in his posture. None of them wanted to say anything out loud but –

"U-um, Sorry, Doctor G-Gaster?" Alphys started again shifting her gaze to her feet as she tapped at the ground with her toe, "Are you . . . are you feeling okay? Y-you look like you h-haven't slept at all."

"I haven't, but that is not the focus of today's assignment. I suggest you not waste time with something so insignificant, Alphys."

"Oh, o-of course, Doctor Gaster . . . it's just –"

The taller of the assistant monsters let out a groan.

"It's just . . . I can't help but wonder what happened after I left yesterday. When I went home, you seemed just fine and Sans was his normal self. Now . . . He's gone for the day and you look like Death died and went to Hell and Hell froze over and now Death is thawing out and about to—"

"It was a long night for the both of us." Gaster answered, cutting off Alphys' rapid-fire speech with a bit of an impatient and irritable bite to his voice, "Sans is resting and I'm just fine. Now, I'll thank you not to bring it up again. You've got a lot of work ahead of you today just like the rest of us. You have your assignments, so I suggest you get to them so we can ALL . . . Those had better be notes for your dissertation you're scribbling down, Alphys."

Alphys snapped the extra notebook she brought with her closed as her cheeks began to burn with the heat of embarrassment. She always carried the tattered book with her just in case she ever got the spark for a new fanfiction. She stowed it away and refocused her thoughts to the tasks at hand.

"Now, you all know what to do. When you have finished with your assignments. Place your folders on my desk and you can be dismissed. We'll not meet tomorrow either. I anticipate this taking a lot out of each of us, so tomorrow will be a rest day."

There were a few quiet cheers and a sigh of relief from the assistants as they immediately thought about what they would do with their extra time. That promise, alone, was enough to inspire them to want to get their work done quickly. Each one, taking a look at what section of the lab and in which room they would be starting, set off to begin their work.

Alphys stayed behind for a few moments after the others split off. "Y-you've got a big stack of assignments, Doctor Gaster. Are some of those S-sans'? D-do you want me to help s-so you can rest too?"

"Alphys," Gaster sighed, "As much as I appreciate your concern, I can handle this on my own. The way you can help the best is just to get your own assignments done in a timely manner. Now, please. Get to work."

"Right." Alphys answered, jolting into action, "Of c-course!"

* * *

It had taken hours longer than she anticipated and she was sure some of the "real" assistants had already completed their assignments and had headed home for their day off, but even with this thought, Alphys pressed onward. She knew that once she could finish up with these last couple of rooms, she would be free to watch all of the anime and write all of the fanfiction she wanted. =^w^=

One of her assignments took her a few floors down and to a wing far west of the central elevator and immediately, she was surprised at how dark the place seemed. None of the lights seemed to be on or working and the looming darkness of the hallway reminded Alphys of one too many movies of axe-wielding humans. Granted those humans in the films often were out to kill other humans, but the image was no less horrifying. It still filled Alphys with a feeling of foreboding.

"J-just get it done, q-quickly." She whispered to herself, "Get it done and g-go home!"

Swallowing her nerves, she stepped forward. Keeping her binder and her notebook close to her chest just in case she needed to use it as a weapon.

A faint sound caused Alphys to stop cold in her tracks. She waited cautiously to make sure what she heard was right.

There! That low groaning sound! And there it was again! It was soft and almost inaudible. But to Alphys' paranoid and overstimulated mind, it was easily detectable even over her own racing pulse.

And it was coming from behind this ominous-looking door to her left marked . . . . . . something in wingdings . . . Four letters long. The first and last letters were the same.

Alphys pressed her ear against the door and listened. Was that rumbling just breathing? Dr. Gaster did say Sans was resting. Is that what the sign said? Was that Sans' name? Maybe he was asleep. Maybe that was him snoring.

But then, why didn't he just do that at home?

Despite what seemed like common sense, Alphys twisted the door handle and opened the door so she could see through the tiny crack she'd made through the threshold.

There he was, sleeping just like she thought. He was lying on an old mattress close to the wall with the sheets bunched up around him so random body parts were sticking out from under the fabric. He had good handfuls of the sheets clutched tightly in his fists as if his life depended on his grip. The more Alphys could hear of the room, the more it sounded like Sans was in some kind of distress. He was moaning in his sleep and every so often, his foot would twitch or he would curl in on himself. Was he having a nightmare?

Alphys opened the door carefully as not to disturb her colleague too much. He didn't even seem to notice. Curiously, quietly and carefully, Alphys entered the room completely.

Inside she took note of Sans' pile of clothing, all his notes strewn about, the beginnings of a few projects and the bit of trash in the corner. This room was used often and had a familiar feel to it. The arrangement was a little different, but it looked a lot like her room at home. Was this . . . Was this where Sans _lived_? In the _lab_?

Alphys had always assumed Sans was just dedicated to his work here. That he would wake early to be here and stay late to help Gaster clear up. She never thought that the reason he was always around was because he had nowhere else to go.

"Oh, Sans." She sighed quietly to herself.

The Skeleton flinched, clutching his sheet tighter as he moaned in discomfort.

Should she wake him? Would it be right? Gaster said he was supposed to be resting, but in this state, whatever sleep he was getting probably wasn't restful at all. Maybe it would be better for him to wake up now.

Dropping to a squatting position, Alphys lowered herself to Sans' level. Being even closer, she could make out some words Sans was muttering.

"No," He slurred, "It's not . . . not funny. Don't . . . No, I won't . . . not again . . . I c-can't. No . . ."

Whatever it was he was dreaming about, it sounded as if he was being forced into a position he didn't want to be in. Maybe it really was better to wake him.

Reaching out, Alphys laid a hand over Sans' shoulder. Her other hand took his.

"Ow," Sans breathed, still asleep, "It burns."

Alphys shook her colleague gently, rattling him and hoping it would be enough to wake him. His eyes were shut tightly and his brows furrowed as he twitched again, snatching his hand away from the burning sensation.

"C-cmon, Sans. Wake up." Alphys pushed, shaking him a bit harder.

Still he didn't wake.

"Sans!"

That did it. The Skeleton's eyes shot opened and were instantly glowing a bright blue. He went into panic mode, using his magic to push whatever it was away from him. As a result, he sent Alphys tumbling backward to crash into the pile of empty bottles and other assorted containers. Sans didn't seem to notice he'd hit anyone with the magic and immediately his eyes shut tightly again as he shot up to a hunched sitting position, groaning in extreme displeasure. He clutched at his skull.

"The ringing . . ." He groaned, "That ringing . . . it's so loud. What is that ringing?"

Alphys pulled herself from the trash pile, wide-eyed as she stared back at Sans. She'd never seen him like this before. He was filled with a panic he couldn't shake as his dream lingered into his waking world. She had to help. She had to let him know he was okay.

She just had to watch out for that blue magic.

Sans huffed as Alphys drew nearer. It was almost as if he could feel her getting closer, though he still didn't seem to be aware that it was her. His grip on his skull became desperate and the intensity of his moaning inched upwards toward screams.

"Sans!" Alphys called as she reached out toward him again, "S-sans, wake up!" She took both his shoulders in her hands, "S-Sans, s-snap out of it!"

"Ringing . . ." Was all he said. He still refused to open his eyes.

"There i-is no ringing, Sans." She tried to comfort him, "It's q-quiet now. You're okay now. Just w-wake up."

Finally, Sans opened his eyes though the blue glow still hadn't subsided. It was happening again! He couldn't turn it off! He blinked again and again trying to shut it off to no avail. And then there was that damned ringing! His eyes darted around searching for something to help clear his head. Where was he now? What happened after he passed out? Why couldn't he –? Who was holding him? Why couldn't he move?

What was that voice clashing with the ringing? Who was that?

"Sans, look at me!" Alphys demanded, her leathery hands gripping him tightly, "Sans!"

He did his best to focus on the sound and through the lingering blur, he found the young lizard woman staring back at him from behind her glasses. Through the lenses and beyond the reflecting glow of his own magic, he could clearly see the concern in her eyes.

"Alphys . . . ?"

"Sans!" She sighed, "Th-thank goodness!"

"Alphys, what . . . what are you doing in my room? How did I—" He squinted, grabbing at his skull once again. "What's with this ringing!?"

Sans noticed that Alphys was immune to the overpowering sound that seemed to want to tear Sans apart. So, was he the only one who could hear it? Great, now she probably thought he was insane too.

"Sans, c-calm down." Alphys instructed, releasing the Skeleton's shoulders. "Y-you still hear the ringing? It wasn't j-just part of the n-nightmare?"

Sans groaned in the affirmative. He didn't want to risk nodding and allowing the ringing sound shatter his skull.

"C-can you describe it for me? If you had to relate it to s-something, what does the ringing s-sound like?"

Sans thought it over, but even thinking hurt and irritated the senses more than just the sound in his skull. Sans' grip tightened even more and his eyes closed once again, the blue glow slipping through slits in his sockets. Even his hands were beginning to glow.

What did the ringing sound like besides ringing . . . ? It was a good question. It did sound like something he'd heard before. The more he thought about it, the more he realized it wasn't really ringing at all. It was more like a long screeching whirr . . . like that machine . . . and that sounded like that sound where you get a microphone too close to a speaker and it starts screaming at you to move it away . . . like . . .

"FEEDBACK!" Sans exclaimed, his eyes snapping open once again and nearly scaring Alphys all over again.

Sans pushed himself up. He had to go! He had to stop Gaster before he made a HUGE mistake. Trying to stand too quickly, Sans tripped over the sheets and stumbled forward toppling over right on top of Alphys. Strangely enough, it was Alphys who apologized, blushing profusely, as if she'd done something to cause the fall. She spewed a string of broken "s-sorry"s to the point where Sans was starting to wonder if maybe she was part snake.

"It's okay, Alphys." Sans insisted, pulling himself up from over her and untangling himself from the sheets. "I have to go!" He added urgently, "Do you know where Gaster is? I have to find him _now_!"

Alphys shook her head, "He had a lot of p-projects to get rid of today. He even t-took your pile s-since you weren't feeling well."

Sans spat out a bitter curse and rushed out of the room.

"I-I doubt he's f-finished them all already!" Alphys called after him. She decided to pick up her things and follow him. He still didn't seem quite back to normal. Perhaps she should be there just in case.

Sans was faster than she would have thought. When he wanted to be, he could be a downright speed demon! He even bypassed the elevator and went right for the stairs, all the while muttering that same curse over and over.

"Sans!" Alphys called out to him, with hopes of getting him to slow down and wait for her. "Sans, w-where are we going!?"

"I can't just let Gaster kill him!"

"Wait, k-kill _who_!? Sans! Is G-Gaster planning on _k_ - _killing_ someone!?"

"Not if I can stop him! That's why I have to find Papyrus!"

"What? P-paper! You need paper to stop Gaster!? I've g-got that right here!"

Sans just ran forward. He couldn't be bothered with explaining to Alphys. He had to stop Gaster!

In no time at all, they'd made it down to where the disastrous tests of this morning occurred. Immediately Alphys shied away from it, that same uneasy feeling filling her once again.

"You can wait here." Sans suggested. "Either that or go find Gaster! I have to make sure Papyrus is alright!" He rushed off again.

"D-damn it." Alphys muttered, forced to make a decision right on the spot. She didn't remember the way back and she didn't want to be left alone in this creepy hallway. So, swallowing her nerves, she started again behind Sans.

She was relieved when he stopped suddenly, frozen in front of one of the doors. It gave her the chance to catch up.

"Papyrus!" Sans called into the room, unable to enter because of the force field, "Papyrus, can you hear me!?"

Alphys caught up just as soon as a noise from beyond the force field sounded and it nearly made her heart beat out of her chest.

That is . . . until she got a good look at the creature in the room.

The tall Skeleton stood from its corner and turned its head to see over its shoulder. The lanky figure turned completely when it saw who was calling it. Its eyes were glowing a fierce orange and it looked as if it had been in the same kind of distress Sans had been in. Upon seeing him, the glow in its eyes died and it reached out toward them.

"Sans?" It said. "Sans, you came back!"

Sans sighed, a wave of relief washing over him. The blue glow in his eyes died down and the ringing died down with it. His features went back to normal as he allowed himself to calm. Papyrus was still okay. Gaster hadn't gotten to him yet. Good.

"Of course I did!" He answered, "I've been through worse. Besides, I couldn't leave you behind."

"Sans . . . ?" Alphys questioned slowly, "W-who is that? What's g-going on?"

"Of course!" Sans answered in realization, "You weren't here that long ago. So you haven't met! Alphys, this is Papyrus. He's . . . well . . . he's my brother!"

* * *

 **AN: *Atonal humming* Geez, Sans, that's kind of a bold statement. Wasn't it just one chapter ago you were saying that you didn't have a brother and you never would? Heh, I wonder what Gaster would have to say about that.**

 **Sorry, I don't have much to say here, but I hope you enjoyed the chapter all the same. I'll see you in Chapter 6!**


	6. Feedback

**AN: Sorry, this one took a little longer than I was anticipating. Life's been a little crazy lately, but I really do love writing this, so I'll keep coming back! =^_^=**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 6**

 **FEEDBACK**

The hallway had gone eerily quiet as all eyes turned to the Skeleton grinning widely. A nervous chuckle emerged moments later to help cover the awkward silence. Incidentally, that laugh made the whole situation just that much more awkward.

Papyrus wore an incredulous expression as he regarded Sans. He was beyond confused. Only a few hours ago, he had woken up with the desire to find his brother, only to be told two hours later by said brother that the relationship didn't exist. Then, nearly killing the one he thought _was_ his brother (and incorrectly expecting Sans to be furious) and now he was being introduced by that same not-brother _as_ a brother. Yes, there had been a little hesitation, but the fact that Sans had called him his brother said plenty enough.

Alphys stared at Sans with the strangest expression he had ever seen. She seemed confused, curious, wary, and ecstatic all at the same time and she seemed to be fighting within herself to figure out which emotion to let out.

When a giant grin pulled at her features and her eyes lit up to the point Sans doubted they needed to turn on more lights, He came to the conclusion that she'd gone with "ecstatic". His suspicions were confirmed when Alphys released a long squealing sound.

"Sans!" She cheered, "I didn't know you had a BROTHER! How come I've never seen him before!? How come you haven't mentioned him? Oh, gosh, where are my manners? Hi! Papyrus, was it? I'm Alphys! I'm . . . well . . . I'm just an intern, but . . . Omigod, Sans! A BROTHER? How come he's down here? Why is he behind the force field . . ." Her expression sank significantly as she remembered why Sans was in such a hurry to make it down here. "Why were you so afraid that Gaster was going to – to kill him?"

"Eh-heh," Was Sans' initial response, "It's kind of a long story."

"But an enthralling tale I'm sure we would _all_ be eager to hear. Please, Sans, why don't you tell us about your 'brother'."

Immediately, Sans' grin dissipated and his eyes went pitch black. He knew he would have to face Gaster eventually, but he hadn't even thought about how he was going to explain himself to the doctor. He spun around on his heel to see a very stern . . . and suddenly intimidatingly tall . . . Skeleton walking pointedly toward him. There was something very unnerving about the lack of expression on the man's face, making it look about a smooth and delicate as a porcelain doll. Just behind that China-like smoothness, Sans could sense the raging fury welling within Gaster. That abrasive curse from before was playing on repeat in Sans' head as he sorted his thoughts.

"Oh, hey, Dr. Gaster!" Sans cheered, pasting a wide grin back on his face, "Fancy seeing you here!"

Gaster didn't respond. He just kept walking forward with his same expressionless mask. Sans took a step backward, his own mask falling again after only five seconds. Gaster was obviously not in the kidding mood and pushing jokes now could only end badly.

"Gaster, look. I can explain." He tried again.

"Alphys. Leave your binder with Sans and go home." Gaster said evenly. There was no room for contest. But still, Alphys remained frozen to her spot. She'd never seen the doctor so upset and she didn't quite know how to respond. She kept shifting her eyes between Sans' worried expression and Gaster's stolid one.

"Now, Alphys." Gaster pressed.

Alphys shrank.

"It's okay, Alph." Sans stepped in, holding out his hand, "Just-just give me the binder."

Alphys nodded and handed over her workload to her colleague. Were his hands . . . shaking?

Or, wait. Maybe those were just her own nerves . . . or both?

Without another word, Alphys turned tail, rushing back down to where she felt the elevator should be. She could figure her own way and she already felt bad enough leaving Sans to whatever scolding he was in for without being awkward and asking for the directions.

"Other way, Alphys." Gaster directed, "Down the corridor to the right. Take the elevator to the top level. I'll trust you to lock up and set the security alarm before you go."

"U-um, of course, Dr. G-Gaster." Alphys responded as she corrected her mistake and headed down the right corridor instead.

Once, she was out of sight, Gaster focused his attention to his apprentice. The shorter Skeleton was nervous and maybe a little afraid. Good. It seemed Sans needed to be reminded exactly for whom he was working.

"I feel I've been patient with you, Sans." Gaster said, directly addressing him for the first time since catching up to him and Alphys. "But perhaps I've been too lenient. You've bent so many rules to fit your own needs and broken so many regulations for the sake of convenience. I cannot allow this continue. This is where I draw the line, Sans. If you continue this way, I'll have no choice but to ask you to leave."

Sans averted his gaze with a terse scoff as he sorted through the information and the threat. Eventually, he hung his head. When he thought it over, he supposed that he did deserve it.

"Gaster . . ." Sans breathed with remorse in his tone as his hands clutched tightly over the binder. "Gaster, I—"

"You will do as you are told." Gaster said sternly, "Now, come here, Sans."

With his head lowered, Sans approached Gaster to receive whatever punishment the doctor had in store for him. When Gaster reached out, Sans flinched, but when Gaster rested a gentle hand atop his skull,

Sans' widened eyes shot upward to the monster, his shoulders falling and the evidence of his worry vanishing almost completely.

Gaster's expression had changed again. In place of the stolid disapproval, and the raging fury there had been, there was a soft smile and a bit of understanding there as well.

"Sans," Gaster began again, "First and foremost, you should know you mean a lot to me. Ever since you first came here, I felt there was a connection, a sort of common thread between us. I've come to love you as if you were my own son and it pains me to see you in such distress as you've been in lately. If there is anything that I can do to help reverse that, I will do it without a second thought. However, even for you, I cannot sit and do nothing as any regard for the rules is thrown aside. The last thing I want is to terminate your employment and evict you, but like I've said before, if it comes to that, I'll have no other choice."

Sans was silenced at the speech, a million thoughts crashing in his head as he listened. An overwhelming sense of guilt began to weigh on him. Gaster had taken him in and given him a place to stay. For years, this lab had been his home and that was due to Gaster's kindness. On top of that, Gaster had given him employment. He owed his very life to the kindness of this monster and to pay him back, Sans pushed his limits, broke his rules and disregarded his directions. Some payback, huh?

Sans shook his head and shut his eyes as he removed the hand from his skull and stepped away.

"I can't." Sans muttered, looking down to where his hands clutched the binder. The thin, bony fingers drummed against the dark plastic covering as Sans' thoughts swirled and ignited. "I've gotta . . . I've gotta come clean."

Gaster's expression twisted once again as he regarded Sans. His apprentice had been mumbling so quietly, he couldn't quite understand what he'd said.

"What's the matter, Sans?"

"Gaster . . ." Sans began, still not speaking much above a low hum, "Gaster, I'm sorry."

"Whatever for? Because you made a mistake? Sans, That is to be expected. You are still young after all and a curious mind."

"No, Gaster. I have to . . . " Sans sighed, his gaze fell again between his shoes and light of the force field.

Gaster followed the gaze. "Does this have to do with _that_? Sans, I've already told you what needs to happen with it."

Sans looked up again, regarding the third Skeleton behind the force field. Papyrus had been so quiet that his presence went completely unnoticed for several minutes. Now, he started as well as the attention fell to him. He stepped away slowly, seemingly in search of the spot he occupied on the examination table.

"Wh- Papyrus?" Sans asked, jolting out of his previous thought trail, "No."

Gaster sighed, "I wish you would stop calling it that."

"Well, it's easier than 'P-4-9 . . . whatever it was. That's for sure."

"Sans," Gaster warned.

"Fine. No, it has nothing to do with Pap- with . . . him . . . with . . . this project."

"And therein lies my point." Gaster pointed out, a bit of that bite back in his voice, "Project 497305 has obviously gotten into your head. You've become attached to it in a way that is unhealthy to a scientist."

"You mean in the same way you've become attached to me?" Sans questioned, and he had to admit, it sounded a little more challenging than he'd meant for it to, "I honestly don't see what the difference here is."

Damn it, it's like his mouth didn't know when to shut up.

"There is a significant difference, Sans. You know that! You are more than just sets of formulas and synthesized materials that could only hope to imitate life. You are a living and breathing creature with hopes and aspirations. You have a strong soul and a genuine claim to life."

"And what makes that so different than Papyrus? You said it yourself. He's aware of everything that happens around him and he's constantly learning new information. He's downright courteous and _kind_. He's never once thought of himself first. It's obvious he _feels_ and he _reacts_ to those feelings in ways that _can't_ be written off as purely coincidental. Papyrus . . . he's _**alive**_ , Gaster! Why are you having such a hard time seeing that!? How is his claim to life any less genuine than mine? Or yours!"

"That's ENOUGH, Sans!" Gaster snapped, his eyes flickering to life as his magic began to boil to the surface. He began to emit a bright glow and in the dim lights, Sans had to avert his glare. "I've heard about enough of this foolish drivel! You will stand back and do your _job_! That's the end of it!"

The smaller Skeleton took another step backward, his own eyes beginning to glow in a defensive tactic. In the years he'd known the doctor, Sans didn't think he'd ever seen his eyes glow like that. Gaster was normally so reserved and understated. He almost never had a reason to use his magic offensively, so this new side was a complete detour from what he knew.

"The experiment will be destroyed tonight." Gaster started once again. Though his voice was even, the fury hadn't subsided and it was evident in the constant glow in his eyes. He rifled through the projects in his hands until he found the correct one. He separated it from the others and held it out toward Sans. "It will be YOUR responsibility to deal with this!"

Sans looked back toward Gaster and the sheet of paper he offered him. The familiar project number and the charts and reports glared back at him like a mortal enemy.

He didn't accept the paper. In fact, he took several more steps backward, refusing to even touch the assignment.

Inside the force field, the third Skeleton gripped at the hem of his cloth covering, taking in everything that was being said and everything that was being done. Sans has stood up for him and protected him. He had put his own issues aside for the sake of his and Papyrus couldn't stand the thought of Sans sacrificing anything to keep him alive.

But why? Why did Sans care so much about him? With his home and his job on the line, why would Sans stand against Gaster to protect an artificial life?

"Why did you call me 'brother'?" Papyrus asked quietly. As simple and as genuine as it was, Papyrus' question cut through the tense air with a sharpened edge. The others stopped what they were doing and turned to look at the third.

"What?"

"Earlier, Sans said he didn't have a brother." Papyrus explained, the words coming easily, "But to Alphys he introduced _me_ as his brother. Why, Sans? What changed?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" Gaster snapped again, "You will hold your tongue, Project!"

"Actually, Gaster." Sans interjected, "That has everything to do with it! Please, just listen for two minutes."

"Sans, I said I've had enough nonsense! This ends here! And if you won't dispose of this project then, I will!" The flare in Gaster's magic turned blinding as he called his reserve magic in his hands and turned toward the one trapped behind the force field.

"Damn it, Gaster, STOP this!" Sans shouted, rushing to stand between Gaster and Papyrus. The force field burned at his back, but he was determined to stay right where he was. If it meant he would stop Gaster, he would stand there with his back burning for the rest of his life. "You _can't_ kill Papyrus!"

"And since when do you tell me what I can and cannot do!?"

"Since, like you said, I have a claim to life! If you kill Papyrus, you'll have to kill me too. There's no way around it!"

"Certainly there is!" And the glow in Gaster's eyes turned blue. Instantly, Sans was flung across the room where he landed heavily. Quickly, he pulled himself up again to get back to where Gaster now stood before Papyrus who had now taken several steps backward to make some distance between the two of them. Being trapped behind the force field, there was no getting out of the very powerful attack Gaster was preparing.

Around the taller Skeleton, the air seemed to swirl and the magic he had accumulated began to materialize. Broken and jagged bone shards surrounded him and took aim toward where Papyrus stood with his back against the far wall, both his hands clutching his hospital gown and wringing the fabric between his fingers. His eyes were widened in pure fear as he faced Gaster.

Sans stood again, "Papyrus!" He called out toward him, his eyes still glowing a fierce blue, "Turn on your magic! C'mon!"

Papyrus diverted his attention to where Sans had stopped right in front of the force field near the threshold of the examination room. He looked pleadingly toward Papyrus, his hands balled up at his sides. He was already anticipating the skull shattering screech before it came.

"But what about you," Papyrus protested, "If I do, it will—"

"I'll be fine! Just do it!"

Papyrus did, his eyes glowing now as well. Right away, the deafening screech punctured through Sans' skull and the smaller figure slumped as he reached up to cradle it. There was no denying it was painful, but to prove his point, he was willing to endure.

But it seemed as if Gaster wasn't going to wait for the two of them to explain. He fired his attack directly toward Papyrus intent on riddling him with bone fragments and ripping him to shreds.

Thinking quickly, Sans fired up his own blue magic, dragging Papyrus away from the attack at the last second and pulling him to a temporarily safer spot behind the examination table. In the place where he had been standing, there were pointed shards of bone piercing the wall and leaving sizable holes in the structure.

"Gaster, please!" The apprentice repeated, his tone becoming more imploring. "Stop this! Just listen for a second!"

"There is nothing to discuss! Now, Sans, you are in my way! Step aside or risk injury. I'll not hold back!"

"Fine by me!" Sans groaned, "Like I said, if you want to kill Papyrus, you'll be taking my life too! I wasn't joking! And I'm NOT bluffing!"

A second attack came and again, bone fragments shot through the room, littering the scene. Papyrus stayed squatted in a corner, curled in on himself and clutching his own skull as he ducked the attack.

"Papyrus!" Sans called, "The only way to get through to him is to _show_ him! I need you to show him your soul! You can feel it, can't you!? Show Gaster!"

"Soul." Gaster repeated incredulously as he let his magic pool once again. "How absurd!"

"C'mon, bro!" Sans pressed, "Just show him! Like this!"

Sans held out both of his hands in front of him and focused all of his energy. But before his soul could manifest itself, Papyrus had already pulled it off, baring his soul, the culmination of his being, and holding the form of a little white upside-down heart in the palms of his hands. It floated there, hovering just outside of his grip and it even seemed to be giving off its own glow.

Gaster halted for a second. His curiosity piqued if nothing else. That was definitely a monster's soul there in its hands. Still, Gaster was hesitant to believe that soul belonged to the abomination. Undoubtedly, the soul had been stolen somehow!

"It's holding a soul." Gaster announced, "How does this play into your plan to convince me?"

"That soul is **_his_** , Gaster! If that doesn't prove he's alive, I don't know what will!"

Gaster scoffed, holding off his attack and shaking his head. "Fine, I'll humor you!" He turned his attention to Papyrus, "Alright. Tell me. How is it you came to possess a soul? Surely, you haven't always had it."

Papyrus stood frozen in his spot, the tiny floating soul glowing radiantly over his hands and softly thumping in a syncopated rhythm. He seemed entranced by it and couldn't tear his attention away. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Answer me!"

Papyrus shook his head. "I'm . . . Not entirely sure." He admitted, "I could just feel it there like it was part of me."

Gaster hummed and turned back to Sans with a derisive smile in place, "and how is it that you knew the soul was there, Sans. Were you a witness when the soul was stolen?"

But as Gaster regarded Sans, there was no hint of the smiling Skeleton he'd come to know. Sans was completely stone – faced and rigid as he looked back to Gaster. His glowing eyes pierced straight through him and he had removed his coat so Gaster could clearly see his point without the need for words.

Behind Sans' shirt, protected by his ribs, was a familiar glow, pulsating in time with the other. In fact, the rhythmic beating was exactly in time. They glowed in the exact same way and they gave off the same frequency.

"That's why the machine screeched when the two of you touched!" Gaster muttered more to himself than the others. It was picking up on the resonance. On the exact same frequency. . . And that's why it pains you to use your magic simultaneously. You still hear that sound in your head, don't you?"

Sans nodded "It's the result of the feedback," he explained in a Gaster-esque even tone. "Two souls echoing each other on the exact same wavelength. We have _identical_ souls!"

"How . . ." Gaster asked, now dumbfounded by the discovery, "how is this possible?"

"Simple," Sans answered, "It's the same soul. That's a fraction of my soul in his hands. I knew it was there because I could _feel_ it! And that's why I didn't notice I was losing HP. I never really lost it. It just found a new body. When I said that if you killed Papyrus, you would be killing me too, I meant it literally. You would be shattering a fragment of my soul!"

That seemed to be the right thing to say. Gaster stopped as he took a moment to look between Sans and Papyrus. The intensity of his magic diminished as he came to a realization.

"Papyrus." Gaster said quietly, thinking through the information that was unfolding before him, "He really would be like a brother to you wouldn't he?"

Sans' expression didn't budge even as Gaster's calm returned and the only magic left in the room was the slight buzz coming from the connection between Sans and Papyrus. Papyrus watched and as soon as he was sure the doctor wasn't using his magic anymore, he dropped his own magic, his eyes fading back to black. He knew that the sooner he stopped the flow of magic, the sooner Sans' senses would be spared.

Once his power was stifled, Papyrus held his soul within his hands and called it back into his being, the glow faded as it entered him once again.

Sans, however, didn't lower his magic. The ringing in his head was gone, but glow in his eyes remained. He needed to make sure Gaster _knew_ just how deeply he felt about this.

"I won't let you or anyone else hurt Papyrus." He said solidly.

Gaster's brow ridges raised in a show of mild surprise. He never thought he'd see the day Sans was forced to take a stand, much less against him. Maybe, just maybe, this was the distraction he had been searching for. A reason to keep Sans' focus off of the negative. The fact that it had to come in the form of this . . . Papyrus was . . . unfortunate, but it sparked life within Sans and that, he supposed was the goal.

He needed something to protect. And if that something happened to be Papyrus, well then, Gaster would have to learn to cope with it.

* * *

 **Alphys' Notes: Entry Number . . . Oh, wait I haven't been numbering these, never mind . . .**

 **I normally don't do this in my stories, but I feel I needed to get this out. Please bear with me:**

 **The preceding was not _entirely_ fiction, but rather pulled from an actual eyewitness account: my own. (the fact that it does spark some new insight and depth into the parts that _are_ linked to my fanfiction is purely coincidental)**

 **I was told to stop writing fanfiction about real people. I was told to leave the Skeletons behind and go home. I was told a lot of things, but I don't always listen to everything I'm told. It comes with the territory, I suppose. After all, if I didn't give into my curiosities every once in a while, what kind of scientist would I be?**

 **For one thing, I'm glad I didn't head directly home when I was told, otherwise, some very important information could have been missed.**

 **My observations have been numerous and my initial notes were extensive to say the least. I will try to consolidate my findings and my theories here:**

 **1) If a monster's attack is an extension of their soul, what does it mean for Dr. Gaster to have broken bone fragments and shards that he then uses as projectiles? Man, that was scary to see. I really hope I'm never on the receiving end of THAT attack. Anyway, does this mean that Gaster's soul is, in fact, broken in ways he never shows the rest of us?**

 **2) Sans has been losing HP. And Gaster seems to be aware of this phenomenon. This is concerning to say the least. I suppose it does explain why he's been so lethargic lately. And why he always seems tired more often lately. Just the challenges of everyday life is a struggle that can take a toll on our HP. This is why we need to eat and sleep. Our HP drains slowly but steadily just by being alive and we need the sleep to refill it. But if Sans has been losing Max HP, he would need to be extremely careful not to over-exert himself or else he could easily and literally work himself to death. That's a really scary thought too. I wasn't aware that sort of thing could happen to a monster . . . unless . . . that's something I'll need to follow up on later.**

 **3) Sans' "brother" Papyrus is . . . interesting to say the least. He seems to have been siphoning energy from Sans in order to fuel his own body. Perhaps that is the reason Sans has grown so attached to him. After all, we are naturally drawn to others who are similar to ourselves in one way or another. So, if Papyrus has a piece of Sans' soul within him, it would make sense for Sans to naturally be drawn toward that piece of his soul and want to protect it no matter what.**

 **4) And this is the most concerning piece of information I have managed to gather. Sans' soul. It's . . . I don't know, it's different from anything else I've ever seen before. When he was trying to show Papyrus how to manifest his soul . . . even though Papyrus was able to do it without being shown, Sans had nearly called forth his own soul. There had been a flash that I didn't mention in the narrative. It was a flash of something extremely bright, which I'm sure Gaster didn't notice due to the nature of his own magic and because he had been preoccupied with the destruction of Papyrus. But during that flash, I was able to glimpse Sans' soul and . . . well, I don't know. There's no real way to describe what I saw. And afterward, I noticed though he did manifest his soul to show Gaster, he kept it hidden within his shirt. Why wouldn't he show it like Papyrus had? Why would he need to keep it under wraps?**

 **Not only that, but before they started fighting, Sans had mentioned that he needed to "come clean" about something that had nothing to do with Papyrus. That, coupled with what I heard him muttering in his sleep, has led me to draw this one conclusion:**

 **Sans is hiding something. Something HUGE.**


	7. Part 1: Peek-A-Boo

**A.N. Sorry it's so late! This was really starting to run long and I ended up spilling this part of the story in half. I really hope it'll be worth the wait! I think it will be. Let's see what you think. After all of the excitement of the last chapter, plus all of the excitement of life, time kinda got away from me. Sorry.**

 **Anyway, enough excuses**

 **EDIT: There is a song that is meant to be played during this chapter. When it get's to the right part (and you'll know when that is) Go look up "Light in the Hallway" by Pentatonix on You Tube. It changes the whole dynamic of the scene.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

 **Part 1: Peek-a-Boo**

It took a while for tensions to settle, but once all magic had dissipated and Gaster had removed the force field, everyone was able to at least communicate with each other without worry of being attacked.

Sans had to admit that after the magic he used, he felt a little lightheaded. Okay, part of that was a lie. The fight, plus the drain on his HP, plus the aftermath of the feedback resonance with Papyrus had left Sans lightheaded, but he wasn't going to admit it. It was revealed, however, when his legs gave out on him and he fell onto his knees.

Initially, both Papyrus and Gaster started forward to help him, but after adamant protests from Sans, the other two stood their ground and allowed him to right himself. Sans didn't stand right away, choosing instead to sit in the hallway and carry on the conversation from that position.

It was a relief to see all three Skeletons converse civilly and without the tense air between them. Granted, Gaster still didn't trust the former specimen at all, no matter how Sans felt about it. Several times, Gaster sighed, having to remind himself that "Papyrus" was no longer an "it".

Together, they agreed that Papyrus would become Sans' full-time project. Sans was to take complete responsibility over Papyrus. In this case, those responsibilities would entail: monitoring his education, training, etiquette, and keeping him out of Gaster's way. Gaster would have preferred Papyrus to be out of his sight completely, but if it was to be living in the lab with Sans now, encounters with it would be inevitable.

At first, Sans seemed a bit overwhelmed by it all, but after an unsympathetic "Welcome to parenthood" from Gaster paired with seeing Papyrus' reaction to the thought of being around Sans more, eventually, he accepted the job willingly. He'd even smiled at the thought as he finally pulled himself up to his feet to escort Papyrus away to his room. For the meantime, Sans supposed, it would be THEIR room. Maybe he could convince Gaster to let Papyrus have the room next door to his. Best not to press his luck today, though.

Gaster noted, as Sans led Papyrus away and rattled off all of the things they would have to do to get him set up, that he would have to start using his other hand in order to keep track of Sans' smiles now. This latest one was number six.

Letting out a long and calming breath, Gaster turned as well to head in the opposite direction. There were still a few things he needed to take care of, but after those (and maybe putting off a few until tomorrow), he would finally be able to catch up on the rest he'd lost the day before. Besides, he still had to check up on that "special project" from King Asgore.

* * *

It didn't take as long as he thought it would. Maybe it was the promise of sleep that motivated him or maybe it was the events of earlier that kept him awake. Or maybe it was because he decided to put off the "special project" for tomorrow. In any case, Dr. Gaster was relieved to be back in his bedroom. Unceremoniously, he removed his lab coat and hung it up on a hook on the inward facing surface of his door and he kicked off his shoes, leaving them to line the wall next to the entryway.

Gaster sunk into an old green couch and immediately tilted his head back to rest. So much had happened in the past thirty-six hours that to him it almost didn't even feel real. He had to make a mental list of it all just to be sure he was remembering correctly.

There really had been so many new discoveries and breakthroughs that it was hard to take in the scope of it all without making that list. Let's see, aside from completing the inventory prep for Spring Cleaning there had been:

The discovery of P-497305

The revival of the aforementioned project

The destruction of the storage unit in the sub-basement

The naming of the project to "Papyrus"

The fiasco of the examination room

Then there came the actual Spring Cleaning, which was still not entirely complete. Sans still had a few chores to take care of after all. That aside, it had taken a good portion of the day.

Then, finally, the stand-off from just under three hours ago, during which time he had learned:

Just why Sans was so adamant about keeping Papyrus alive

The deep connection the two of them share

Just what was happening to Sans' HP

Papyrus actually had possession of his own soul

But the most startling revelation of all was this:

Project 497305 was never a failure to begin with. In fact, it was quite the opposite. It had been functioning just the way he had intended from the very beginning. The project, Papyrus, was an overwhelming success. He had chosen the wrong target, but he was functioning perfectly.

It was with this thought in mind that Gaster allowed a pleased smile to cross his features as he slipped off into unconsciousness.

* * *

The day had been long and he was relieved to finally make it back home, even if it meant only a short hour or two that he would be able to relax before lights out and having to reset once again.

It was already late and lamps had already been snuffed for the night. This meant he had to rely on the glowing trail of mushrooms to find his way home. Sooner or later, he would find a better way to light up this godforsaken underground and he thought he might be onto something at work, something that could change the lives of the underground monsters for good. Until then, though, glowing mushrooms and twinkling rocks in the ceiling would have to do.

He approached the grey door and even before he could reach out and turn the handle, he was greeted by a shrill squeal of delight.

"Daddy's home!" The little voice cheered.

"Now, Corbel," Another sweetly smooth voice sounded. It carried a slight accent with it that wasn't native to the area, "What did I say about snooping? Come away from the door, or he can't get in."

Immediately, Gaster's expression shifted as whatever worries he had been harboring lifted and he was left with nothing but joy and relief to be home. He opened the door only slightly, deciding to play a little game. He didn't push the door open, but left it right there next to the frame. The slightest touch could close it again.

For a few long moments, there was silence as the anticipation rose. Finally, sick of waiting, the curious child stepped forward.

"C'mon, Daddy. I know you're there!" Corbel Gaster's tiny voice called as he approached, chuckling as he began to piece together what was going on. With a few more careful tip-toed steps forward, the child reached out, ripping the door wide open to greet his father.

"BOO!" He shouted.

There was no response. The doorway was completely vacant and any sign of his father was gone.

"Dad . . . ?" The little boy questioned, taking a cautious step out of the room—

Only to be caught up into waiting arms with a playful roar.

Corbel squealed again, genuinely surprised and elated by the taller Skeleton's attack. He laughed, squirming in his father's grip, as he was pulled close in a tight embrace.

Gaster laughed too as he snuggled against his son, cherishing every laugh and every protest. After all, he was growing up so quickly and he wouldn't stay this small forever. Gaster had trouble accepting that five years had already flown by so stealthily and he wondered where all that time had gone. Corbel already had such long limbs. No doubt he was going to be tall like his father when he grew up. And with such strong cheekbones, he would grow to be handsome too. He dreaded that if the next ten years flew by like these past five, Corbel would be dating before Gaster could blink again.

"Daddy!" The boy's small tones protested, shocking his father back into the moment. He was still struggling to escape Gaster's grip, "Daddy, let me go! C'mon!"

"Nope." Gaster answered with a smile, never relinquishing his hold on the boy, "You're stuck with me now. I just decided I'm never going to let you go again. So, when you start school tomorrow, I'll just have to go with you!"

"No!" Corbel whined, "That'll be the _worst_! And you're too big for the chairs anyway. You have to let go!"

"No I don't!" The father argued, "I'll just have to bring my own chair and you'll be stuck in class with me glued to your side!"

The soft laughter of the third Skeleton made itself known as she approached the pair of them, wrapping her arms around them both and pressing her skull to Corbel's other side.

"Now who said the two of you get to have all the fun? If your father's going to school with you, then I'm coming too!"

"Mom!" The boy groaned, "Please no! That's way too embarrassing! No one else will have their Moms and Dads with them!" The boy continued to struggle until he eventually and inevitably gave into a fit of coughs. He had expended his energy and his strength trying to fight off his parents.

"Okay, okay." Gaster gave in, releasing his hold on the boy and setting him down on the ground, "You win. You get to go to school on your own. But . . . in return, I want you to tell me everything you do in class, okay?"

The boy's coughing subsided momentarily as he made a nod, smiling up at his father. The coughs continued immediately afterward as he fought to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, buddy." Gaster sighed, lowering himself down to his son's level. He rubbed between the boy's vertebrae soothingly, "I guess we got a little carried away there, didn't we. Are you okay?"

The boy nodded again as he drew in deeper and deeper breaths and only let a few coughs slip through. It didn't escape Gaster's notice though that with those coughs came little clouds of bone dust. His condition was getting worse. He also noted Corbel's hands as he tried to cover his coughing, which was pointless considering the holes in his palms that were still steadily growing larger.

"There's my big strong boy." Gaster encouraged as he backed away slightly, "Alright, it's getting late and you've got a big day tomorrow. So, shouldn't you be getting ready for bed?"

"Aw man!" Corbel pouted. "I wanted to stay up and play with you and Mom some more!"

"And so you have." Nyala Gaster interjected. "You got to stay up until Dad got home. Now, go get ready for bed. Maybe, if you ask nicely, Dad will read you a story."

Corbel's eyes lit up at the idea. With his father coming home late almost every night, the boy was usually already asleep and almost never got the chance to see him. The thought of him reading the story tonight was enough to get him to listen.

"Will you, Dad? Please!?"

Gaster looked back at his son with an air of mock deliberation as if he were weighing his options. Finally, with a "defeated" smile, he nodded.

"Of course I will."

Corbel cheered again, turning on his toes as he left to complete his assignment. The whole time, the promise of his father reading his story echoed in his head as he ran off.

Gaster stood finally and turned to greet his wife properly.

"Nyala." He smiled, taking her into his arms and touching his skull to hers in a gentle sign of affection, "How is the most wonderful and the most beautiful monster today?"

"Hey," The woman protested with a sly grin, "Isn't that my line?"

"Well, in that case, 'beautiful' is not the word I would've used."

"So," Nyala pushed, excited to hear the answer, "How was your day? Any new discoveries or breakthroughs I should be alerting the Underground about?"

Gaster narrowed his eye sockets, "No . . ." He directed, switching the focus back to his wife. "I asked you first. So you have to answer. Those are the rules."

Nyala shook her head, her grin never letting up. Gaster always enjoyed hearing about her adventures in elementary school teaching.

"Well, there's not much to report considering school starts TOMORROW, Numbskull! Today was all about getting Corbel ready for kindergarten."

Gaster chuckled as he began to rock back and forth, holding the smaller form in his arms. He supposed he'd walked directly into that one. But no matter what she said, it was the _sound_ of her voice Gaster craved, soft like velvet and smooth like silk And no matter how often he listened to her speak, he could never really get enough of that adorable accent. If he had to guess, he would have said her family tree had its roots somewhere near the Caribbean before they settled in his little town. Of course, this had been before the monsters had been forced underground. Otherwise he never would have had the opportunity to meet the woman he now called his wife.

Well, wherever the accent was from, he loved listening to it and if given the opportunity, he would have stayed there all night just rocking and listening to her recite the grocery list. It was so soothing to the taller Skeleton that he couldn't help but hold her close as he moved to the sound. The motion was calming as the two of them swayed and to anyone looking in, they could've been dancing. He never wanted to stop.

Then, seemingly out of absolutely nothing, something happened Gaster couldn't explain. It was as if the whole scene shook. It wasn't even a physical shake, but it felt like the mood of the whole world made a sudden stop and plummeted, crashing into the ground.

Somewhere in his head, he knew that time had skipped ahead. A few weeks, maybe? A month? Two? All he knew was that everything was different now. Instead of the calming dance he had been doing with his wife while he listened to her voice, he was holding her tightly as she shook with tears. It was almost as if she would shatter at any given moment.

"This isn't fair!" She sobbed into his chest, "He didn't do anything to anyone! Why does he deserve this?!"

Gaster could do little more than sigh as he held her close. He remembered this feeling vividly: the pain, the shaking, the inconsolable and overwhelming sense of hopelessness. He also remembered what he said to her.

"He doesn't deserve this, Nyala. Corbel is a victim of an unjust world. If I could, I would switch places with him in an instant."

"No!" Nyala cried, gripping at Gaster's shirt, "I don't want this for either one of you! I just . . . I just want my son. . . Isn't there something else we could be doing!? Why is there no cure!?" She stopped for a moment, thinking it over. "How did you do it, Wingdings?"

From where he stood, Gaster stole a look down to one of his own hands. The hole in his palm stopped spreading long ago, back when he was still a young Skeleton, no older than thirteen.

"Back then, there was a physician . . . Doctor Vrinda*. She was much more skilled than I could ever hope to be and the only one who knew how to treat Skeletons . . . but she . . . turned to dust long ago."

"And you? Surely, the Royal Scientist would be allowed access to her notes."

Gaster released a bitter chuckle. "Oh, I have access to the notes. Believe me, I've been giving every second I could spare and hours upon hours I couldn't spare looking for a way to save our boy. So far, I've been . . . Unsuccessful. Something is missing from the notes. Something important that gave the serum potency. No matter what I try, I can't seem to recreate it . . . And I can't imitate it. I remember it having a certain fluorescence to it and it was warm to the touch."

His grip became tighter around Nyala as the frustration seeped into him. "I have a theory . . . But no way of testing it . . . And on top of that, I . . . I'm running out of time . . ." Gaster stalled, his embrace becoming a desperate hold on his wife as he lost control of his composure.

In response, Nyala tightened her grip as well. Wingdings Gaster was strong, but even his solid defenses weren't impenetrable. In order to keep him standing, Nyala would be his foundation. This was one of those times he truly needed her and for him, she would be whatever he needed.

"I'm so sorry, Nyala." Gaster breathed, fighting his own emotion, "You're absolutely right. If not for me . . . If I had just . . . Then our son would be . . ."

"Shh." Came Nyala's soothing response, "I won't have you talking down about yourself, Wingdings Gaster! You are a brilliant and dedicated mind with a caring and devoted soul and I love you for that. I know you've done everything you could possibly do for Corbel . . . And if there was a way to stop this from happening, you would have done it."

"That's just it, though." Gaster explained through a waterlogged voice, "There IS a way . . . I've witnessed it . . . I've USED it! And I still haven't found it. What have I been doing wrong, Nyala? Why does he have to suffer because I failed?"

At the confession, Gaster broke down completely, sobbing heavily into his Nyala's shoulder. His grip on her shirt became like a bony vice that nearly punctured the fabric.

"I've failed you, Nyala." Gaster wept, "I've failed you and I've failed our son. There is no other explanation. He's _dying_ and it's all my fault!"

Nyala let her tears fall as well. She couldn't pretend she hadn't had these thoughts already. She hated herself for thinking them because all she was doing was pointing fingers and passing blame. But Corbel did inherit the disease from his father . . . and if her husband had just been able to figure out his childhood doctor's notes and mix the right formula, then her baby would be . . .

But on the other side of the same coin, if _she_ had been more diligent . . . maybe if she'd quit teaching and spent more time with Corbel . . . if _she_ had searched through more books and if _she_ had done more research, then _she_ could have found the missing ingredient and helped to fashion a cure.

"This isn't your fault, Hon." Nyala responded, her throat closing in on her. "This isn't because of you. You've done everything in your power. And that's . . . that's all we could ever ask of you."

There was a fit of coughing coming from the next room and a small boy called in a voice that sounded as if he were gargling gravel, "Mom?" He coughed again, "Dad?"

His parents parted from one another as they went to their son, wiping away tears and putting on masks of false calm. The smiles were genuine, but the conviction behind them was ephemeral.

"Good morning, Baby." Nyala greeted as she approached her son's bedside, "Did you have a nice nap?"

Corbel observed his mother as she came to sit next to him on the little bed. She had been crying again. And so had his father. He hated seeing them so sad. And somewhere inside of him, he knew that it was because of him they'd been crying so much. No, he hadn't had a good nap. His sleep had been plagued with nightmares and discomfort and he was more exhausted now than when he went to sleep, but for his parents, he nodded.

"Hey, do you guys wanna hear a joke I heard at school?" Corbel offered. Somehow, he needed to make his parents smile again, "Why was six afraid of seven?"

It worked, both his mother's and father's smile pulled to a more real place on their faces. Maybe they knew the punchline already?

"I don't know, Baby." Nyala answered, leaning against the headboard and wrapping an arm around her son with a hand gently stroking his skull. "Why was six afraid of seven?"

"Because seven, eight, nine!" He laughed, "Get it? Because 'eight' sounds like 'ate'?"

"Oh!" Nyala feigned, laughing all the same, "I get it! That's really funny! Do you know another one?"

Gaster stood in the entryway to his son's room watching his family laugh at jokes they already knew. But through it all, there was that constant nagging feeling tapping away at the back of his skull. He had a terrible feeling about this and it shot such a sharp pang of guilt straight through his soul that he couldn't bring himself to laugh with them.

"I know one!" Corbel cheered, "What do you call the clumsiest teacher in school? You know, the shrew monster who always runs into the desk?"

Nyala raised an eyebrow. She knew the teacher, but was unaware the students have given him a nickname.

Corbel was so happy. She really didn't know this one, did she? "The Stub-stitute!"

Before she could stop herself, Nyala let a laugh slip and she had to cover her mouth to try to sober herself. Corbel laughed with her.

"Now, now, Corbel, honey. It's not nice to make fun of people. Even if you do find it funny. Imagine if the other kids started telling jokes like that about you? Would you laugh then?"

"Well, if the joke was a good one, I might." Corbel answered. His smile began to fade slightly as he took a look down at his hands. The holes in his palms had spread and had claimed three of his fingers on each hand. With only his thumb and his pinky, Corbel was having trouble gripping much of anything. When it first started happening, the kids had teased him, calling him 'Humpty Dumpty' and asking where he left all of his other pieces. But hey, anything was better than "Puffball," which is what they called him if ever they caught him coughing up dust.

Of course, he never told his parents about the names the other monster children called him.

But what the other kids didn't see were the holes forming through his feet or the pores in his ribs that were becoming more and more visible or the cracks in his shoulder blades. That was about the time the names started getting a bit old and worn.

"You're right, Mom." Corbel admitted, "The kids at school aren't very good at telling jokes."

Nyala nodded in understanding. Corbel hadn't been in school for very long, but already his time there had been full of stress and unnecessary tension. When it got to the point that his coughing and other various issues became a distraction to the other students, it was suggested that Corbel stay home until he was well enough to come back to class. Though she understood the reasoning behind it, Nyala was a little upset that her kid couldn't go to school with the other monsters his age. Instead, she took it upon herself to be his teacher from that point onward, leaving the "Stub-stitute" to take over her classes.

Sensing the awkward aura settling into the room, Gaster finally brought himself to enter and sit with the others, grabbing a book from the dresser. "Hey, enough with the jokes already. How about we read a book instead? And it just so happens, I've got your favorite book right here."

Corbel took one look at the book and gave a curt scoff, very much like his father's. "Dad." He groaned, "That book is for baby bones!"

"Oh, is that so?" Gaster grinned, finding a seat on the other side of his son, "What makes you say that?"

"C'mon, Dad. You read it to me when I WAS a baby bones! Can't you read me something else?"

A grin pulled at Gasters's mouth. "Well, if it really is for baby bones, maybe you wouldn't mind reading to me instead?"

The look on Corbel's face shifted as he thought. "There are a lot of words in there I don't know yet. I don't know if I _can_ read it by myself."

"Well, you won't be by yourself." Nyla encouraged as she and Gaster held the book up between them so their son could see. "If you need any help with the words, we'll be right here."

"Okay." The boy nodded enthusiastically, "I'll try."

The skeleton family smiled as they sat together with a book between them. Corbel couldn't support the book well on his own, but with his parents holding it up, he was able to point to the words with his pinky and flip the pages with his thumb.

"There. Once. Was. A. Very. Fluffy. Bunny." Corbel staggered, "His. Fur. Was. As. White. As. The. New. Snow."

He was actually pretty good at reading, Gaster noted. At first, he attributed it to the fact that this _was_ his favorite book and he'd heard it so many times, but it was in the words he didn't know that his skills would really shine.

"And. With. His. Eyes. So. Big. And. B-br- i-gittt. Briggitt?"

"That word is 'bright' son." Gaster explained, "That one's pretty confusing actually. There's no real rule why it's like that. Just know that it has the long "I" sound and the 'gh' like that is silent."

"Bright." Corbel repeated, nodding before continuing, "You. Did. Not. Need. To. Use. A. Light—"

"Good Job!" Nyala cheered, "See, 'light' and 'bright' are rhyming words. They even look the same."

"For. By. Himself. He. Seemed. To. G-gl- gl-a-oo. Glau?"

"Glow. It has the long "O" this time. It's just like 'snow'."

The Gasters kept on like that for a while and together, they read the book. They helped Corbel sound out the tougher words and by the end, Corbel was about ready to take back his baby bones comment.

"But. What's. That. There. Behind the. Tree?"

Gaster took the book then. He had been waiting for this part and he had to keep it interesting. He closed the book sharply with a loud snap.

 **"Peek-a-boo! It's Fluffy Bunny!"**

At the sudden shift, even Nyala jumped with a small gasp and Corbel almost screamed, but covered his face instead as the reaction became nervous laughter and he attempted to calm his nerves.

The prank was genuinely funny and light-spirited and they laughed with and at one another for their reactions.

It really was funny . . . until Corbel's laughter turned into another violent round of coughs. Puffs of bone dust spread through the air and he gasped continuously, trying to catch his breath. No matter how he tried, however, he couldn't seem to do it.

Suddenly very worried, his parents stopped their laughter and tried to help Corbel breathe. They did everything they knew how to do to try and open up Corbel's airway. Nothing worked.

Through all of the encouraging words and coaching, nothing seemed to help him. The boy was completely overtaken and he turned to his side, gasping when he couldn't take a sufficient breath.

This reaction was the worst the parents had ever seen and after a minute or so with not so much as a pause, their worry turned into panic. It wasn't stopping this time. Every other time Corbel had a coughing spell, there had been a moment in which he would seem to find a pocket- a break during the attack where he could catch his breath and calm himself. That didn't happen this time.

It still wasn't stopping.

 ** _Oh God, why wasn't it stopping?_**

Nyala's eye sockets grew wide as more and more bone dust fell to Corbel's racecar sheets. Fragments of his body were starting to crumble, "Oh no!" She squeaked, "No no-no-no-no-no-no-NO-NO! My _strong_ boy! My _wonderful_ boy! My _SWEET_ boy! Please, no! Not now! Not today!"

She brought the boy close to her, making sure he had room enough to breathe when he was able to catch his breath.

Corbel continued to cough and bone dust continued to fall. His mother's outfit began to collect a layer of it and it was only getting thicker.

His father seemed to be frozen. This was all his fault . . . if not for him . . . if he hadn't scared him . . . He knew better than _anyone_ else what Corbel was going through. He _knew_ what could happen if he was overexcited. He should _NEVER_ have tried to scare him!

It wasn't until Nyala screamed that he snapped back to the reality of what was happening. She screamed his name, calling him into action. He sprung up to his feet.

"Hold on, son!" Gaster exclaimed as he rushed to grab the one thing that might stop this . . . at least for a little while longer. "Nyala! Get his shirt opened up!"

In the room he shared with his wife, there was a jar of what looked like cream on his nightstand. Every once in a while, Gaster would experience a pain in his ribs left over from when he had been suffering from the same thing as his son. Like him, the disease started to eat away at his ribs, leaving them porous and susceptible to breaks. This cream would smooth it over for a short period of time and offer a small bit of relief. When Corbel started to show the same symptoms, Gaster used it on him as well to give him at least some temporary relief.

The jar was light. There wasn't much left . . . but hopefully it was just enough.

When he returned, he found his wife sobbing over a small frail figure that was barely recognizable as his son. Nyala had managed to get the child's shirt opened, however, what she found was hardly comforting.

Several of Corbel's ribs had cracked straight through and they were beginning to crumble right before her. She couldn't even touch them to try and hold them in place. His ribs were so fragile now that she was afraid that the slightest touch would send the rest of him crumbling.

"Wingdings!" She cried, "Wingdings! Where are you!?"

Gaster rushed in to see if there was anything he could do to help. The jar was opened and the last of the cream was on his fingers. The problem was where could he possibly put it that would do his son any good? His ribs were falling apart and the sternum was crumbling as well. But still, he had to do _something_!

With the little bit of cream he had left, Gaster reached out and with the gentle hands of a father and the careful hands of a surgeon, he applied the cream to Corbel's sternum and gingerly spread it out to what parts of the ribs he still had. The bones were so small in his fingers. Corbel was still just a child growing out of his toddler phase. He still enjoyed _'Peek-a-boo with Fluffy Bunny'_ for crying out loud! Why did he have to suffer like this? What part of this was fair to him?

Corbel stopped coughing for a brief moment.

"Daddy . . . ?" A wheeze barely audible sounded, "M-Mommy."

"Shhh." Nyala coached, "Don't try speaking now. Just breathe. That's all Mommy wants you to do."

"Mommy?" He repeated. "Mommy?"

Nyala choked on her emotions, deciding it was probably best not to stop whatever it was her son was trying to tell her. "Y-yes, baby." She answered, "What- what is it?"

"Mommy . . ." And he coughed again, "Mommy, I'm scared."

That tore at the mother's heart even more. Her baby was afraid and there was nothing she could do about it.

She looked back toward her husband who was still diligently attempting to keep the boy's ribs from falling apart. He was trying to help. He was doing something. What was _she_ doing? What _could_ she do?

She could . . . comfort her son in what were sure to be his final moments.

She leaned over him and as she went to touch her skull to his, she noticed the cracking. Even his skull was starting to crumble.

She drew in a breath and instantly regretted it. How dare she breathe when her son had to fight so hard just to do _that_?

"Don't be scared, Baby." She tried to comfort, though she couldn't quite bring herself to sound even halfway convincing. She decided to try something else, "Corbel, honey. You know Daddy and I love you very much, right?"

Corbel nodded and coughed again.

"You know there's nothing in this world we love more than you?"

"Mommy . . . ?"

"Shhh." Nyala repeated, "It's okay. This is all just a bad dream. It's time to go back to sleep now, okay? How about I-I sing you a lullaby? W-would you like that?"

Something pulled at Corbel's mouth then, a tiny smile as he fought to hold in a breath. He closed his eyes as his mother touched her skull to his. His good-night kiss.

Nyala closed her eyes as well as she began to hum. The song was quiet and soothing and it always worked on Corbel when he was a baby. It was the perfect thing to sing for him now.

 _"Close your eyes. Lay your head down_

 _Now it's time to sleep._

 _May you find great adventure,_

 _As you lie and dream._

 _If you're scared of the darkness,_

 _I will calm your fear._

 _There's a light in the hallway,_

 _So you know I'm here._

 _So count your blessings every day._

 _It makes the [nightmares] go away_

 _And everything will be okay._

 _You are not alone._

 _You are right at home._

 _Goodnight."_

Tears began to seep through and fall onto Corbel's skull as she sang. The boy reached up and took his mother's hand with his two fingers. Nyala shuddered, stifling her cries as she continued her song.

 _"You won't need me forever,_

 _But I'll still be here._

 _For we all have our nightmares,_

 _Even me my dear._

 _From now on, if you need me,_

 _You can sing this song._

 _There's a light in the hallway_

 _burning all night long._

 _So count your blessings every day._

 _It makes the [nightmares] go away_

 _and everything will be okay._

 _You are not alone._

 _You are right at home._

 _Goodnight."_

Corbel smiled again as the song finished. He wasn't coughing anymore. In fact, he seemed peaceful, like he was ready for a nap.

"Goodnight, Mommy." He whispered, "Goodnight, Daddy."

"G-goodnight, baby." Nyala answered, through the same watery whisper, "I love you."

Gaster stopped trying to apply cream when Nyala began her song. There was nothing more either one of them could do. They both knew it. The most they could hope was to make sure he was comfortable and that he knew they were there.

"Goodnight, son." He responded in low tones, "Sleep well."

"I will, Daddy. I promise."

And he did.

For about five minutes, one for each year he had with his parents, Corbel slept soundly. He must have been exhausted. He had been fighting for so long and he had endured so much that he deserved his rest.

When those five minutes were spent, Corbel Harrington Gaster sighed, releasing the last of his energy. In the next moment, his body gave out and he crumbled into dust.

* * *

 **AN: I really don't have words right now for this. I can't explain and I can't do much more than just sit back. I actually cried when I wrote this down because all the while I had Nyala's voice in my head singing.**

 **Now, originally, I had lyrics for an original song here, but I figured you guys should be able to listen too, so I changed it to actually be the Pentatonix song, because- just wow- it's such a beautiful song and it's absolutely perfect here. I just had to substitute the word "monsters" for "nightmares" because monsters aren't really what monsters fear, right?**

 **Anyway, like I said, this is part 1 of 2. So this mess isn't done yet. With any luck, I'll have the next installment posted soon.**

 ***Also, I forgot to put this in before the edit. That's my fault. Vrinda (Gaster's childhood doctor in this story) does not actually belong to me. She is the creation of a good friend of mine, PotentiallyHarmful. Go check out her stuff, because she's an awesome writer and the life she gives to her characters is so real, you can't help but become attached. So if you wanna find out more about Vrinda, go give her story, "The Beginning" a read!**

 **Alrighty, that's it for me. Until next time.**


	8. Part 2: We All Fall Down

**An: Welcome back, everyone. Thank you all for your continued support! I really appreciate every single one of you who come back every chapter! I know I've said it before, but I mean it!**

 **Just a word of WARNING to you going forward! To those who were hoping to see a happier chapter after the feels-trip-roller-coaster from the last installment: _IT DOES NOT "GET BETTER" FROM HERE!_ There is no super special magic montage that happens and suddenly everyone is okay! There is pain. There is depression. There are dark and controversial subject matters. This is why I tentatively rated this fic T.**

 **That being said, please enjoy. There's still so much story to tell! ^_~**

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

 **Part 2: We All Fall Down**

Monster funerals tend to be relatively short. Usually, only a few close friends and loved ones are in attendance for the support of the surviving family as they say goodbye to their fallen member. Someone will say a few words for the deceased before their dust is spread. Then, some of the gathering will stay to offer condolences or a thoughtful gift before they part ways. Someone will almost always offer to see the family home to make sure they get there safely.

Skeleton funerals tend to be even shorter. Since there weren't very many Skeletons in the Underground to begin with, there were fewer people to show up and speak.

For Corbel Harrington Gaster, however, this was not the case. No, the funeral wasn't a very big one, but for a Skeleton, the sheer number of people who did show up was a little surprising. Joining his parents were three other Skeletons, whom were all shrouded and covered to the point no one could see their faces. Even the Gaster family was unsure of exactly who they were, but if they really were Skeletons, they were grateful for their presence regardless. In addition to the unknown Skeletons were Corbel's classmates and their families as well as a few of Nyala's colleagues from the school, all of whom came to wish the family peace in their time of sorrow. The students seemed to be understandably curious. Many of them had never been to a funeral before and they didn't quite understand why they were there. When their parents explained that someone died and they were there to offer support, the children seemed to sober up a bit, but a few were still curious and asking questions.

Among these was a young girl, only a little older than Corbel. The Gasters recognized her almost immediately. She was the one who would come around every so often and ask Corbel if he wanted to play heroes and villains with her and the ghost family who lived next door. She was often a bit rough in her approach though and she intimidated Corbel to the point he was always hesitant about accepting her offer. But the girl never took "no" for an answer and would insist he come along by means of a big toothy grin and by dragging Corbel away by his wrist before he could squeeze out a goodbye to his parents.

She had her arms crossed while she stood with her mother. Her bright red hair had been pulled into twin braids that hung low behind her fin-ears and she shifted from foot to foot as she frowned downward at her outfit.

"I still don't get why I have to wear this." She pouted. "I hate dresses!"

"Shh," Her mother scolded, "Have some respect! Someone has died."

"So?" The girl groaned, scratching at the scales on her arm, "Why do I have to dress up because some old jerk bit the big one?" She went quiet for a moment as she thought about who it could have possibly been. "Aw man! Don't tell me it was old man Gerson! No way, that old fart's really friggin' tough. I thought he'd live forever!"

"Quiet, Undyne!" The mother reiterated in a harsh whisper, smacking the girl in the back of the head for good measure. Perhaps she was where Undyne picked up some of the more violent of her loving habits, "It was the Skeleton boy, the one you and the Blook boys always played with."

Undyne went quiet again and she lowered her head and stared at the ground, "Aw, man . . ." She repeated in a much softer tone, "Poor Puff— I mean . . . Poor Corbel. I mean, I knew he was sick. The kid was always coughing and having to stop and take breaks and stuff . . . but I didn't know it was _that_ bad . . . When did he die?"

"Sometime last week." The mother answered shortly, "Now, shush. King Asgore is going to speak."

Undyne turned her attention to the two Skeletons standing near the front of the gathering. Those were Corbel's parents, weren't they? Aw man, they looked sad. His father was standing very near his mother with an arm wrapped around her shoulder. They wore all dark colors just like everyone else, but they were also holding a small blue vase with them. Was that . . . Corbel's dust . . . ?

Undyne didn't mean to stare, but she couldn't bring herself to look away. She was having a hard time wrestling with the thought that her friend was gone and that she'd never see him again. She couldn't even imagine how it must have felt to be where the parents were. Losing a family member was different than losing a friend. They couldn't escape it once they left here. They had to live with that loss from now on.

She didn't even know she _was_ staring until Corbel's father made a sweep of the crowd around them and caught her eyes. She turned her gaze away to avoid facing him. Even when he gave her a small smile and a smaller wave, Undyne couldn't bring herself to respond, instead looking anywhere except at him and Corbel's mom. She felt too badly for them to look them in the eyes.

She only looked up again when the king stood forward and addressed the Skeleton family.

"My friends," Asgore began, "When I first met you and your son, I was filled with pride for the future of our kind. Your boy was one of the most delightful and observant children I have ever had the pleasure to meet. He was so curious and inquisitive that I was sure he would make one of the brightest minds of the next generation."

The king paused for a moment as he reflected on the boy and his family and he let out a long breath.

"He was so young." He sighed, "Only five years old . . . It hardly seems fair, does it, for us to be here now remembering a life which only just begun. He had so much in front of him to look forward to . . . our hearts go out to you and your family, Dr. Gaster. The hearts of all of Monster-kind ache for the loss of Corbel."

After a moment or two passed, Asgore continued. His tone changed ever so slightly as his role shifted from King to Fellow Monster, "I also just wanted to let you know, that to Tori and me, you are more than just 'the Royal Scientist.' We would like to consider you and Nyala friends. So, as your friend, please know that you have our love and our support. I can't even begin to imagine what you two must be feeling right now to have lost a son so soon after meeting him, but know that if you should ever need our counsel, we will be here at your service. Feel free to stop by at any time and we will gladly receive you. All you need to do is ask."

Gaster stepped forward then and took Asgore's hand to shake, thanking him for his kind words, but the king drew him in for a lengthy and sincere embrace.

"I am so sorry for your loss." The low voice rumbled to the point that it nearly shook his skull.

"Thank you, your majesty." Gaster answered with a nod of his head. As soon as the king released him, the father turned once again to face the small crowd and announce what the parents were planning to do with Corbel's dust.

"There was nothing our son loved more than his home." Gaster mused, "Like so many us, the Underground was the only home he ever knew and he was fascinated with learning everything he could about the different regions and the monsters who live there. From the icy forests of Snowdin, to the intensity of Hotland, and the tranquility of Waterfall, he loved them all! And so to honor that love, we have decided that he should be able to experience everything the Underground has to offer. We will be taking a walk through the Underground, spreading Corbel's dust throughout. I think he would have wanted a chance to be a part of every life in the Underground and this way is the best way we can think of to give that to him. Thank you all for your thoughts and for your support. Just you being here has helped to fulfill that final wish."

At that point, many monsters nodded at Gaster and took their leave. Others stopped by to offer to help the Gasters spread Corbel's dust. They knew a few places in the Underground that they felt the child would have enjoyed. The offer was politely declined, not by a verbal response, but in the way Nyala clung to the blue vase in her arms. She didn't speak . . . in fact, she hadn't spoken a single word since that day . . . but her answer was clear nonetheless. She was unwilling to part with Corbel if it meant she would be handing him off to other monsters like cookies at a bake sale. Even when her husband reached out toward her to wrap a comforting arm around her shoulder, she flinched slightly. The gathering was starting to get to her and she was becoming more and more uncomfortable around the crowd.

Only a few more and then they could be on their way.

Undyne and her mother came and left quickly and the Blook family did the same. Even the King and Queen stopped by; King Asgore giving the father another huge hug and reissuing his offer that they would be available to help them if they should need anything.

"In fact," Asgore continued, "why don't you both come by for a cup of tea sometime?"

Gaster offered the king a small smile before turning to get Nyala's input. She had lowered her head in what was meant to have been a polite bow, but after it stayed a bit too low for a bit too long, again, the intent was clear.

"Sometime, perhaps." Gaster answered, the gaze on his wife becoming more worried the longer he watched her. "But right now, there's still so much to do."

Queen Toriel, who had seen the pain in the mother's eyes stepped forward and took Asgore's arm, "He's right." She added, "It has been a long and trying day already and they still have such a long journey to make. Come along, dear. Perhaps we should be on our way as well."

Asgore sighed sympathetically as he looked between Nyala and Wingdings.

"Perhaps you're right, Tori. Let's give them their space. Just know, my friends, if you need anything at all . . ."

"All we have to do is ask. Yes, you've said that twice already."

"That's just how sincerely I meant it."

"We truly appreciate it." Gaster gave a polite nod, "And if we have a need for your generosity, we will be sure to call on you."

Asgore and Gaster exchanged smiles and with that, Toriel led her husband away to begin their walk home.

As the remaining crowd thinned out, the Gaster family stayed to greet one final group who approached: the three Skeletons who were silently standing off to the side during the ceremony. In the group, there was one male and two females, all with shrouding hoods. They stopped directly in front of the pair and stood before them without uttering a single sound.

The male Skeleton was the first to make a move. He reached within his cloak and wordlessly pulled out a spray can. He started rattling it vigorously, preparing it for use.

At first, Gaster tensed. Just what could he possibly be planning to do with a spray can!?

The Skeleton stooped down to the ground and started to spray his can directly toward the rocks beneath, making small and precise sweeping motions. He was drawing something. A bouquet . . . a bouquet of miniature echo flowers.

At the same time, one of the female Skeletons brandished a thin stick- a conductor's baton- and held it expertly in her fingers. She too began to make sweeping motions, flicking her wrist in a three beat pulse. Her teal magic began to circle them and a soft melodic chiming sounded. It sounded like a lullaby being played through a music box. The swirling staff and the bell-like notes floated through the air and visibly started to fall to the ground where they melded with the sprayed paint of the echo flowers until the flowers began to carry the melody and harmonies on their own.

The male Skeleton reached out to peel the flowers from the ground one by one. Each flower became a three-dimensional object until finally, all of the echo flowers chimed in his hands.

All that was left was to wrap them. For this, the third Skeleton stepped forward, wielding a fountain pen with a wave, she summoned parchment and with a visible flourish, she used her magic to compose lyrical stanzas and lines on the parchment. Once she was through, she sent the parchment toward the male and it gently wrapped around the flowers completing the gift. The flowers seemed to absorb the lyrics and began to sing.

Together, the three Skeletons turned toward the grieving parents and held out the singing flowers as an offering to their sorrow. In unison, they bowed their heads.

"For Corbel." They announced simultaneously.

The parents were dumbfounded by the gift and Gaster's mouth even fell open slightly. The last thing he had been expecting was this absolutely beautiful and chilling tribute to his son. The flowers chimed and sang while he and Nyala listened intently.

When the song finished, an almost crushing silence took over as Gaster reached out and accepted the bouquet. There were no words that were appropriate enough for what he was feeling. He bowed his head right back at the Skeletons as they stood.

Behind him, Nyala's head lowered as well, showing her thanks for the gift in her way. There was very little in her mind that could have even come close to what her son deserved . . . this song . . . this gift from three complete strangers was one of those few unexpected things that lived up to her standards.

Before she could stop herself, tears began to seep from her eyes and roll down her face. As she kept her head lowered, she raised an arm to shield her face.

Gaster turned toward her then, offering his support as, not for the first time, her emotions got the better of her. Holding the vase between them, Nyala buried her face in Gaster's chest.

Slowly and a little awkwardly, Gaster rocked with his wife as he tried to comfort her. Moments later, he turned to look over his shoulder at the three Skeletons.

"Thank you." He acknowledged in a near whisper, "Your gift was beautiful and your thoughtfulness is greatly appreciated."

Once again, the three Skeletons tilted their heads before turning on their heels and talking their leave.

Nyala and Gaster didn't even know their names or what they looked like.

After several more moments, Nyala seemed well enough and composed enough to leave, so with a touch, they reactivated the echo flowers' song and together, they turned to begin on their journey through the Underground.

* * *

As they walked through the door, the pressures and the expectations of the day seemed to slip from their shoulders and fall solidly to the floor like a heavy coat.

For a long time, there was nothing but silence. It was hard to believe that only a few short days ago, this house had been filled with laughter and everyone in it had been so happy.

The child was still alive three days ago.

Now, all that was left of him were handfuls of dust scattered throughout the Underground and the memory of what his voice sounded like when he laughed.

The sound played on repeat in his parents' skulls. They refused to remember him in his final moments, coughing and gasping and struggling to breathe. Corbel was their son! He was _so_ much more to them than the disease that claimed his life. He was their light. He was their joy. He was their reason for constantly striving to be just a little bit better. It was all for him.

And now that he was gone. The parents struggled to figure out what to do next.

So, for several minutes afterward, they stood and sat in silence as they held the vase which now carried the singing flowers.

Nyala stepped forward and walked wordlessly toward Corbel's room, taking the flowers with her. Gaster knew better than to ask what she was doing. He knew he wouldn't get a response. So, instead, he followed her to the door where she seemed frozen. Corbel's bedroom door had been shut since that day and neither parent felt strong enough to enter it since. With a few long and steadying breaths, Nyala opened the door and she stepped inside.

Nothing had changed at all in the child's room, not that she had expected it to . . . in fact, she preferred it never change. This was Corbel's room, everything was exactly where it should be. If anything were to change, it wouldn't be his room anymore.

Taking a look around, Nyala approached the small bed and sat on the edge in the spot she always sat when she would read to Corbel or when she would sing him to sleep. She placed the flowers down on the night stand beside her and she sat staring at them. She didn't seem to move after that. She was frozen to that spot, a part of the still painting.

Gaster was silent as he stood against the door frame and stared back into his son's room unable to bring himself to enter. Fewer than three days ago, he had been sitting right there with Nyala, reading a story with his son.

And then . . .

And then he'd . . .

It had all been in good fun and it wasn't as if they hadn't played that way in the past. Corbel loved the shock and the thrill of being surprised. That time was supposed to be just like all of the other times.

Except it wasn't.

Except that time, the shock that sent him into laughter also triggered his most severe reaction which ultimately killed him.

If he hadn't been laughing so hard, he wouldn't have started coughing.

If he hadn't been shocked so suddenly, he wouldn't have started laughing.

If Gaster hadn't scared him while they were reading Fluffy Bunny, none of it would have happened.

If not for him, his son would still be alive and he would have had at least one more night with his parents.

This was all his fault. The whole thing was because of him.

Not only that, but Corbel had only been suffering because he was unlucky enough to inherit the same disease Gaster had. Every piece of the puzzle led back to all of this being his fault.

He forced himself to look way. He had to focus . . . on something . . . anything that wasn't the painted testimony to his guilt. But everywhere he looked, there was another reminder of what he lost. The books on the far shelf. The chest of drawers full of small clothing, the box in the corner with his toys, the tiny shoes that lined the wall, the pictures that hung above them.

This was his room, after all. Of course it would be filled with his things.

He looked back toward Nyala and held out his hand. "Nyala, honey," He began, trying to mask a slight quaver to his voice, "It's getting late and it's been such a long day. Shouldn't we be getting to bed?"

Nyala blinked slowly and forced herself to look away from the flowers. She turned to look at Gaster, but what he didn't expect to see was the furious scowl that came with her attention.

Still, she didn't speak. Still, she didn't need to. Instead, she pointed harshly to the small area between Gaster and the door to the room, demanding he leave her alone. Just because he couldn't handle being in here with his sins crawling on his back, didn't mean he had the right to pull her away from her son!

Gaster retracted his hand and lowered it to his side as he backed away. She was absolutely right and as he looked back at his wife's furious expression, there was something there that struck him deeply and it felt as if his very soul could collapse in on itself. Nyala's pain hit him in a way that it hadn't before and it hurt him just as badly as it would have if she'd hit him with a physical or a magical attack.

Gaster, instead, clutched at the fabric of his shirt as he exited. That accusatory glare followed him all the way out.

Nyala stayed in Corbel's room that night.

And the night afterward . . .

And the next . . .

Even when Gaster returned to work weeks later, Nyala stayed in Corbel's room, refusing to leave his side. Gaster couldn't bring himself to remind her that Corbel was no longer in the room; that she was only keeping his things company, not him. He already knew she wouldn't listen. She could be pretty stubborn when she wanted to be and he knew better than to cross her when she got that way.

So, he kept his distance, letting her carry on how she wanted.

In this case, the way she wanted was to sit in Corbel's room holding the vase of echo flowers and refusing any kind of interaction. She barely slept anymore and whatever food that was offered to her was pushed away.

Gaster was beyond worried. It was as if she had shut down completely and nothing he could say or do could help pull her out of that rut. He'd tried again and again to get her to leave the room and he tried numerous tactics from convincing her with logic and reasoning, to staying with her and trying to ease her away, to waiting until she finally fell asleep and carrying her out. Every attempt was met with the same furious reactions and the same result. She would return to sit on Corbel's bed, unwilling to leave him.

It pained Gaster to see her so miserable and inconsolable. And even while he was at work, his mind would wander back to her and how she was doing. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. The last time he had a feeling like that . . .

Gaster gathered his things deciding to head home early. After all, he was alone in the lab and the head of the project . . . And besides, how could he be expected to make any progress on the Core if he was constantly distracted?

Fishing through his pockets, Gaster was sure to remove his stolen contraband. He couldn't risk bringing them home and Nyala finding them.

He opened the drawer to his desk and quietly deposited two test-tubes worth of dust he'd marked "C.H. Gaster"

"Good night, son." He whispered to the dust as he closed the drawer again.

From that moment on, he was on mission mode. He _had_ to get home. He _had_ to check on Nyala. Even on his way home, he was brainstorming. There had to be a better way to contact her. Maybe someday soon, phones could be of use to all monsters. They had them on the surface, why not Underground as well?

But until he could get the Core up and running, that would be impossible. For now, that meant rushing home while the lamps were still lit.

Even with him moving as quickly as he could at a speed just shy of running, it seemed to him like he wasn't moving quickly enough.

Eventually, he'd made it home and as he reached out to turn the handle and enter the grey door, the handle turned and opened from the inside.

There she was, looking more alert and put-together than she had in weeks. She was gripping a couple of chiming flowers and adjusting her sweater over her shoulders as she prepared to leave.

"Nyala?" Gaster questioned, unable to hide the surprise and excitement in his voice. "Nyala, you're up! And you're dressed!"

The woman nodded her response, still not daring to look Gaster in the eye. She didn't seem to be as excited or as proud as her husband was. In fact, her features seemed to fall when she saw him.

"That's fantastic!" He tried to encourage her. "It's good to see you out and about again!" He wrapped his long arms around her and held her closer than he had been able to before. After few moments, the woman in his arms shifted in discomfort and tried to pull away. Gaster let her go, remembering that she seemed to be on her way out.

"That's right!" He grinned, stepping aside and giving Nyala the space she needed, "You were going somewhere, right?"

She nodded, adjusting her cardigan again.

"Hang on." Gaster pressed, moving past Nyala to enter the house. "Let me put my things down and I'll come with you."

The response was almost immediate. No sooner had Gaster crossed the threshold, did Nyala grab firmly onto his shirt sleeve.

"No." Her broken voice pushed. It had been so long since she'd used it that the sound was almost foreign. It was airy and raspy and it seemed to be actually physically painful for her to use.

Gaster stopped dead in his steps and he turned to see the tightened grip on his sleeve. He had to stop and look back, the timid sound of the voice compelling him to listen.

It was the first word she'd spoken in almost a month, but it was the tone behind that word that was the most concerning.

"Hey," Gaster sighed turning back to face her. He grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together. "Are you okay?"

Nyala nodded again, "I'm . . . just," She stopped for a moment, her raspy voice taking a toll on her, "A walk to . . . see Corbel." She pointed back toward the bedroom, "H-he . . . he's not . . ."

"He's not in the room anymore." Gaster answered for her, stroking her fingers with his thumb, "He's out in the Underground and you wanted to go see him?"

Nyala nodded.

"And . . . You're sure you don't want me to come with you?"

Nyala nodded again taking her hand back, "I . . . need to talk to him."

Gaster's expression fell as Nyala turned her face away once again. What was weighing on her mind so much that she didn't even want him around? She didn't even want to look at him anymore and any attempt he gave to comfort or support her, she would pull away and shut herself off. If he hadn't left work early and rushed here, he wouldn't have seen her at all . . . and he was absolutely sure that was the way she'd wanted it.

This went way beyond stubbornness, this was something deeper.

Was he being too overprotective? Was he smothering her? Is that why she felt she needed to get away from him? Or maybe there was something he _wasn't_ doing?

"Nyala . . . ?" Gaster questioned again, an air of self doubt falling over him, "Did . . . Did I do something wrong?"

She sighed with her head lowered, still refusing to look at her husband. There was no way she could possibly explain what was going through her mind, what had been going through her mind since the day Corbel died.

It hurt. All of it was physically painful. Her body was sore and her spirits were steadily dissipating. Whenever she looked around this house, she felt a stinging reminder that it was far from being "home" anymore. Not without Corbel. She thought that by staying in the boy's room, it would give her the comfort she needed. She needed to be reminded of her son and that however short his life had been, she'd done her best to make it a happy one.

But no matter what she tried, all of the times she listened to the flowers and read through Corbel's books or folded and refolded and organized and reorganized his clothes. She couldn't feel the same sense of purpose. She felt empty. She felt alone. She felt broken and shattered.

And Wingdings . . .

He had been trying so hard to keep his little family together. He put on false smiles and kept up paper-thin appearances to give off some small sense of normality. She was the only one who could see past those defenses. She was the only one who knew just how deeply he was hurting.

And what had she done to help him?

What had she done to help Corbel when he was in pain and falling apart?

Absolutely nothing.

She had fallen apart herself- shut herself off from everyone and everything. She had wrapped herself up in her own mind and refused to let anyone in . . . even him . . .

She didn't deserve his kindness or his concern. She didn't deserve to stay here with him when she was nothing but a burden to him. Surely, he blamed her for the things she didn't do when it came to saving Corbel and the things she didn't do after he died. There he was, trying to piece their lives back together, going back to work on the Core, making progress to improve life for ALL monsters. THAT'S what Corbel would have wanted to see. He would have wanted to know that his parents were still doing the best they possibly could!

Instead, she sat around his room, crying until she felt her sockets would split and making no progress toward anything- not even her own recovery. She didn't go back to teaching . . . she didn't even go back to her own room. She was less than useless. She was a waste of space.

And Wingdings thought their disconnection was because of something _he_ did? Of course he did. She hadn't given him anything else to believe.

"Do you . . . Do you hate me, Nyala?" He sighed in a despondent whisper, "You must . . . After all, Corbel . . . he's gone because of me."

It was the confession that did it! Nyala couldn't have him blaming himself for all of this. This was _her_ fault! He felt this way because of her! Because she had shut him out, because she had made him feel guilty, because she'd screamed at him and fought with him . . . and after he had done nothing but try to help her! She closed the gap between them and instead embraced him. At the motion, Gaster touched his skull to hers in a show of comfort and affection. He was still trying to make her feel better? Damn it! She couldn't stand it! _**Damn it!**_

She decided then, with absolute certainty, what she needed to do and a new resolve filled her as she did. She would find some way to make amends. She would somehow make all of this right again. Gaster had been fighting so hard to keep them both stable and now, it was up to her. She refused to be the source of his pain any longer. He would be able to continue his great works and he would be able to devote more time to his own happiness. He could go on without having to worry about her. He deserved that much.

"I don't hate you," She whispered. With the lack of tone in her voice, it didn't hurt as much to speak. "I love you so much, Wingdings Gaster . . . And from now on, you won't ever have to suffer like this. I promise."

She stood up, taller than she had in a long time, and "kissed" his cheek before releasing him.

He held on, not quite ready to let go yet. She was trembling in his arms and he didn't feel right letting her go. But at the way she pulled, he had little choice but to respect her wishes. She stepped outside then, leaving him in the house. She offered him a quiet smile- also the first in weeks. Just that weak show was enough to get Gaster to smile too. Good. That's the image she wanted to take on her walk with her.

As soon as her back was turned, her smile faded. She had a long journey ahead of her.

* * *

Gaster remained behind, watching her walk off with two echo flowers clutched in her hands. Somehow, he couldn't get his own hands to stop shaking. Why was he so uptight? Why couldn't he calm his nerves?

But she wanted to go alone, and he wasn't going to deny her of what she wanted. Not now.

Instead, he took to pacing. He would wait for her to come back. As he paced, he thought. It was so incredible to see some of Nyala's old self come back! She had been in such a dark place for so long that he was starting to doubt whether or not she would be able to pull out of it. And for a while, it didn't look like she wanted to. It was such a relief to see her smile again!

Of course he had to have faith in her! Of course she could pull out of her funk. He was ashamed for ever having doubted her!

He spent the rest of the afternoon and evening, cleaning up around the house and marking some things off of the fix-it list that had been steadily growing for a while now. Before now, there had been no time and no motivation to get them done, but for Nyala's return, it was worth doing.

Hours passed and she still didn't come back. It was dark and the lamps had gone out.

Well, the Underground was bigger than most gave it credit for being. Perhaps, she was still out talking to Corbel. He was sure she had a lot to say . . . or knowing her, she probably sat there for a long while before she even began to speak . . . Not to mention, Corbel's dust was spread everywhere. It was impossible to know for sure which site she went to visit . . . if not multiple sites.

He decided he was being too overprotective and too paranoid. Once he allowed himself to relax, he realized just how tired he was. He needed rest too.

So with that, he resigned himself to bed. Perhaps Nyala would be back in the morning.

* * *

It was the rapid and urgent pounding on his door that woke him. He had no idea how long they had been out there, but he did know that it was _way_ too early to be bothering anyone! Whatever it was, it had better have been important!

Groggy and shuffling, he made his way to the front door, stifling a yawn as he reached out to open it.

Immediately, a booming voice caught him off guard, "Is this the home of Nyala Gaster?"

Through droopy eyes, Gaster fought to focus, "Mmm-hmm." He answered instinctively, "I mean, yes . . . yes it is."

"Then you must be her husband. Wingdings Gaster?"

The fog was finally lifting, freeing him from his delirium. Something was going on. Something serious. They didn't send the Royal Guard for just anything.

Why did they ask him about Nyala?

"Yes," he answered solidly, fully awake now, "Dr. W.D. Gaster. How can I help you?"

The two guards looked at each other for a moment before turning their attention back to the Skeleton who was obviously not ready for company.

"Dr. Gaster." The first guard said solemnly and solidly, "Your presence is required in the throne room immediately."

"Is that so?" Gaster raised a brow, "There was absolutely no way this could have waited until morning when I was already going to work?"

"Afraid not, Doctor. Now, if you like, we can wait here while you dress."

It took longer than he would have liked, but eventually they'd made it to the throne room where King Asgore and Queen Toriel stood in full robes waiting for him.

The guards and Gaster bowed in a sign of respect even as Asgore raised his large paw to stop them. He hated formalities . . . especially in times like these.

"My friend." The Goat monster addressed. He didn't seem to be very cheerful, which was odd for him. "Now's not the time for that. Please, come closer."

So far, Gaster did not like the feeling of this inconvenient and impromptu meeting.

"Is it safe to assume you have not been told why you have been brought here?" Toriel asked, taking a stand next to Asgore.

"I have not." Gaster replied, and frankly, he was beginning to tire of all of the secrecy.

"Then you have our deepest apologies, Doctor." She continued, "Perhaps you would care to take a seat?"

"Thank you, but no." Gaster refused, "Please, I would just like to know for what purpose you need me and for what reason this could not wait until I came in to work. You see, I'm expecting my wife home at anytime and I would rather her not return to an empty house."

The King and Queen hesitated just like the guards had, taking a moment to look at one another before turning their attention back to Gaster . . . Would people _please_ stop doing that!? It was never a good sign, was it?

"Please." Asgore pressed insistently, "Have a seat."

Definitely not a good sign.

Once Dr. Gaster was seated in the chair provided, straight-backed with his hands fisted over his knees, the king and queen decided it best to just come forward.

"Dr. Gaster." Asgore started.

He hated the tone the king was using.

"We are so very sorry." Toriel continued.

He hated the words she was using . . . and the sympathetic looks they were both giving him.

There was a table between them that had a box resting atop the polished wood. How was it that he hadn't noticed it before? What was in the box?

Asgore grabbed the box in both hands and presented it to the doctor. Gaster didn't even realize how much his hands were shaking until he reached out to take it.

The box was very light, in all honesty.

"Earlier this morning," Asgore explained, "One of the patrol dogs in Snowdin noticed a Skeleton woman wandering through the forest. At first, she thought nothing of it. After all, walking through the forest is hardly a crime. But then, the woman stopped at the edge of the wooden bridge that connects the forest and the town and the patrol dog could hear her crying and whispering apologies."

"From the reports, she sounded so remorseful," Toriel stepped in, continuing the story, "She was overcome with grief and sadness and she truly seemed to blame herself for the pain she said she caused you. She was endlessly repeating your name. Your name and Corbel's."

As he listened to the story, Gaster's grip turned to steel while he held the wooden box in his hands. There was a reason why it was so light, wasn't there? He didn't want to draw conclusions, but hearing the story, it was impossible not to.

"She collapsed there on the bridge crying her apologies to the snow." Asgore came back in, his voice low, "She didn't even try to stop herself as she fell over the edge."

Gaster drew in a sharp breath and his grip cracked the edges of the box. They were lying! They _had_ to be! There's no way Nyala would . . . She was strong! She was dedicated! She was getting _better_ damn it! She was recovering! She was _**smiling**_ when she left!

"No . . ." Gaster droned in an even tone, shaking his head, "No . . . that's a lie." When he looked up from the top of the small wooden box, there was a sardonic smile on his face.

"Your patrol dog doesn't know what she's talking about!" Gaster protested and even as he said it, he was increasingly aware of the tears forming and falling from his eye sockets. "She got the wrong information! She tracked the wrong Skeleton! It wasn't Nyala! It _couldn't_ have been!"

"A team went down to where the Skeleton fell. The wind had already blown the dust away, but everything they were able to recover was put in that box."

"No!" Gaster repeated, his even demeanor and his voice shattering as he clutched the box closer, "You don't understand! Nyala was just out taking a walk! She was going to . . . going to see . . . Corbel!"

Suddenly, Gaster was glad he was sitting, if he hadn't been, without a doubt, he would have fallen right then and there. His hands stroked the wooden box and the cracks he'd made in it. The last conversation he had with his wife began to play in his head.

The last words she had spoken to him was a promise . . . a promise that he would never again have to suffer the way he did when he lost Corbel.

How had he been so BLIND! He should have _known_ something was wrong . . . he _**did**_ know! He felt it, but once again, he had done nothing about it! He'd _**let**_ this happen! Once again, it was his fault . . . if he had just followed her! If he had trusted his instincts and looked after her . . . he would have been there.

"I could have stopped her." Gaster squeezed out. "This is all my fault. First Corbel . . . I killed him . . . And now . . ."

Gaster curled in on the box, clutching to it for dear life. The moment, he did, he knew he didn't have to open it. The chiming of the echo flowers was enough confirmation. Whatever was left of Nyala was inside that box and there was no denying it.

From then on, everything seemed to go in a foggy slow motion blur. His entire life screeched to a halt and when it started up again, it was as if it was progressing in frame-by-frame still shots. He opened the box to find Nyala's cardigan and two synthetic echo flowers all covered in her dust. Against his own wishes, he had broken down, clutching onto the objects in the box as his entire form seized. His mind, his heart, his soul. They all stopped in that moment and it felt as if they had all been forcefully ripped from inside him and crushed.

He might have cried out in pain. He might have screamed, he didn't quite remember.

He did remember the solid wall of fur that was King Asgore's embrace. Gaster had been rendered completely motionless as the king held him in one piece. Behind the king was Toriel who stood with her hands covering her mouth while steady streams of tears flowed from her eyes. No, she couldn't possibly understand what Gaster was feeling in that moment, but she was nothing if not empathetic toward him. Just bearing witness to that level of pain and heartache was enough to overwhelm her.

No one could quite remember how long they stayed that way. It was long enough for Gaster to fall completely numb and eventually his tears stopped, but only because he had lost consciousness. The king and queen made arrangements for him to stay in their New Home and there Gaster slept for a few hours.

* * *

He didn't remember the walk home or if he had interacted with anyone on the way. He just kept walking with the wooden box clutched to his chest as the chimes of the echo flowers played on repeat. He was home before he realized what was happening, and he stood in front of the grey door wordlessly and motionlessly for what felt like several hours.

This place . . . it was no longer his. It was the house of the man he used to be. A man who had a family and the love of said family. This was a place of laughter and dancing and playing airplanes reading Fluffy Bunny.

This is where Wingdings used to live with his wife and his boy.

Dr. W.D. Gaster no longer belonged.

There was just . . . one thing he needed to get.

When he opened the door, he was engulfed in sights and smells and feelings that seemed so familiar to him, but so foreign. When they washed over him, Gaster remained unmoved. They weren't his anymore and he had already accepted this. Time to let it go.

Stepping through the house with the narrowest of tunnel visions, Gaster walked forward until he found Corbel's room. He pushed through and grabbed the vase of flowers.

On his way out, he noticed the box of toys and the clothing and the books and the bed and the shoes. They looked so familiar. That's right, those belonged to the little boy who used to live here . . .

But he was gone now . . .

And his mother was gone now . . .

And his father . . . didn't exist anymore.

Gaster left the grey door behind and didn't look back. Instead, he kept walking with the vase of flowers and he listened to their song as he walked. His mind fogged over completely as he kept onward and onward. Nothing seemed to register. Not the change in temperature, or the number of steps he'd taken, or even the path he walked.

He didn't even really know where he was going until he reached the lab. For some reason, he had walked to work . . . maybe it was the one thing that made him feel like he was doing something. Or maybe it was the one part of his life that he'd managed to keep separate from all of the other mess. It was him without having the burden and sorrow of the other him from beyond the grey door.

This would be his home.

And so it was.

Years passed since he lost Corbel and Nyala and the only thing that kept him going was knowing that the work he was doing as a scientist was somehow useful. He was productive. He was helpful . . .

He had finally completed the Core. It took all of his strength and all of his concentration, especially since he had been working alone, but it was done! In no time, the Underground would finally be able to enjoy a more stable and permanent power source. Lights, communication, entertainment. This is what they all had been waiting for and now they finally had it. Still it might have taken a bit long, and it may take longer still to spread it throughout the Underground, but it was a start.

The only problem was that the Core tended to overheat. There had to be a way to prevent it. After all, what good would the Core be if it was rendered inoperable because of the searing heat in Hotland?

He had been out doing detail work and surveys on the Core, trying to right this issue when he heard something . . . footsteps . . . a low groaning . . . a fall.

"Who's there!?" Gaster demanded, "This area is restricted except for authorized personnel! Show yourself or I will be forced to call the Royal Guard!"

It took another moment or two and another threat, but eventually, a voice called out, "Hey, woah there, buddy. Just . . . just hang on a sec. There's no need to get all . . . _**hotheaded**_ over this!"

Gaster was admittedly taken aback. The other was obviously not in a good spot. He sounded weak, possibly on the verge of losing consciousness. But still, he found the strength to crack a pun.

"Show yourself!" Gaster repeated, "I won't ask you again."

"Fine," The other voice answered and in uneven steps, the second figure appeared, visibly struggling to stand and leaning on the wall for support.

When Gaster saw him, his jaw dropped and he focused on him more than he had focused on anything in _years_.

The other figure was only a kid . . . or a kid by his standards . . . maybe he was closer to a teen . . . a young adult, maybe, if he was pushing the extremes?

And he was a Skeleton!

Gaster couldn't help but think. If Corbel were still around, he would probably have been about this age. Part of him slapped the other part for thinking of Corbel now. He had left that life behind over a decade ago. He was supposed to be over that by now.

 _ **Focus, Gaster! Back to reality. Back to the present.**_

How the Hell did this Skeleton boy end up all the way out here? And what was wrong with him that he was in the state he was? How did he end up so beaten?

Gaster rushed forward to see him more clearly. He was short in stature and he seemed to be wearing a constant smile, despite his obvious discomfort. He had most likely been through a really bad time to end up this way.

Not two seconds after he caught up to the younger Skeleton, the boy fell to his knees. His eyes went pitch black and his smile faltered.

"Hey! Hey, there!" Gaster called, taking him by the shoulders and sitting him up, "Stay with me!"

The boy chuckled with an empty sound, "Well, if you're askin' . . . How could I possibly say no?"

His voice was low and lacking conviction. Something about the way he spoke led Gaster to believe that he thought he didn't have much time left.

As a last resort, Gaster called forth his magic. Usually, this was just reserved for battle scenarios, but this was an emergency. Gaster CHECKED the boy.

Well, that explained why he seemed so uncoordinated and loopy. He only had 3 HP left in his gauge. His Max was only 20 HP to begin with.

He had to do something before the boy died out here . . . and he would not be responsible for another Skeleton's death.

 _ **Damn it, Gaster! Stop bringing the past back up!**_

"Hey there," He addressed the boy instead, "I'm not going to hurt you, but to help, I need to know more about you. Please, tell me your name."

The boy laughed again. "Didn't it tell you when you CHECKED me out just now? Heh, whatever. Guess it wouldn't hurt to answer. The name's Comic Sans Serif. Call me Sans."

* * *

 **AN: And scene! Quite honestly, this was NOT where I wanted to end, but these chapters keep running longer than I mean them to run. Really, last chapter, this chapter and the next chapter were all supposed to be one . . . and well, you can see why I opted not to go that route. Could you imagine? I mean, it wouldn't just have been the length, but meeting and losing both Nyala and Corbel in ONE chapter! No . . . just no . . .**

 **Also, I feel like I owe you all an explanation. I know it isn't in the practice of good writing, but there really is no other way to get this across. The narrative doesn't allow for it:**

 **Nyala never meant to jump. Yes, she was depressed to the point that she COULD have been suicidal. But Gaster was right. She never would have done it on her own. At most, she wanted to distance herself from Gaster until she was strong enough to face him again. When she collapsed, it was at the worst possible moment and in the worst possible spot. And when she started to slip over the edge, she didn't stop herself from falling. She didn't jump.**

 **Welp, we're nearly all caught up now on Gaster and why he is the way he is. Just one more chapter and we can get back to the main story! I'm sorry about all of this detour stuff (also not in the practice of good writing to apologize for your actions, btw) But I felt it was really important to know where these characters come from and the motivation behind what they're doing.**

 ***Finally one last thing! This is probably the last time I do something like this in this story.**

 **The three Skeletons who showed up at Corbel's funeral. I admit, I was a little self indulgent and inserted some fontsona Skellies! My brother was the male with the spray can. His name is Calligraffiti. The female with the pen was PotentiallyHarmful's character, Freestyle Script (Ript for short) And the conductor with the baton was my personal fontsona, Jazz.**

 **And the song of the echo flowers that the Skeletons made for the Gaster family is an original composition called "Azure Lore" The song is available for you to listen to via SoundCloud if you like. It's a simple little song, but I'm really proud of it. Just go to the site and type in "Siren - Song - Jes" (all one word. Keep the dashes, but lose the spaces between the words) It's the only thing on there. You don't have to, but know that it's there if you're curious.**

 **Okay, that's it for me. I've rambled enough. I promise I'll get back down to business soon.**

 **There I go again, making promises I can't guarantee I'll keep.**

 **Heh, anyway, see you next chapter.**


	9. Part 3: Simon Says

**AN: I'm so sorry it took me so long to get back to this! I really hope you guys are well and that you're enjoying Summer!**

 **Yeah, this took a lot longer than I thought it would. So, after finals and performances and work and writing and all of that, it ended up being over two weeks since the last update. Sorry, but I don't think I'll be able to keep up with the one chapter per week thing like I thought I would. I hope you can be patient with me! Thank you! So, without any further ado, I present to you the final chapter in Gaster's backstory!**

* * *

 **Chapter 7**

 **Part 3: Simon Says**

This is Dr. W.D. Gaster. Entry: 18-249-B

It has been more than ten years since the last time I saw another Skeleton. When Comic Sans Serif appeared, I was taken aback to say the least. And I admit, it has been a bit of a challenge to adjust to living with _anyone_ again let alone another Skeleton. This is something to which, even months later, I have been struggling to adjust.

Sans, however, seems to be adjusting to life in the lab quite splendidly. I believe he is more grateful that he no longer has to search for shelter every night. In those first few days, he seemed a bit apprehensive about speaking to me with the exception of his knack for creating absolutely terrible puns. I suspect this is his own personal way of handling awkward situations. Perhaps he may have even been intimidated by my presence. He does seem to prefer to keep to himself most of the time and only steps out of his room for work or for food. In his first few days, I left him to his own devices as Sans hardly seems the destructive type. I thought that letting him explore his new home could prove beneficial to him. After a week or so, he was comfortable enough with his surroundings that he was able to walk around freely and without hesitating around every corner.

Not long afterward, I decided to start him at work. My goal was not to give him anything too difficult or confidential. Just filing the results of past projects and organizing my findings. He quickly developed a system that allows for each experiment to be recalled at a moment's notice by subject, type, attempt and result. He merged his system with one I already utilize, found a way to somehow make it more efficient, and ensured that future experiments can be easily filed. He is a very clever boy.

In no time, he seemed bored with the lack of stimuli. With his busy-work completed, he needed something else to challenge his mind. I, however, am not his babysitter. It is not my job to make sure he remains entertained. I decided to leave him be just to see what he would choose to do with his free time. What he decided was shocking, but eye-opening all the same.

During one of my sweeps of the complex, I found him holed up in a corner, surrounded by papers, boxes and files. It seemed to be a complete disaster and when I looked, I found several pages of my research notes with bright red wax pencil markings marring the surface and scribbling out the discoveries that were written there!

"Mr. Serif!" I addressed him, perhaps a little more sternly than I had intended, "What in the world do you think you're doing!?"

The boy seemed to start when he heard my voice, his eyes, which had been glowing a bright blue faded and a box he had been trying to move toppled, spilling more paperwork and experiment files about.

"Oh! Dr . . . Dr. Gaster!" He stammered, "Um . . . h-hello. You see, I was going through this set of experiments, when I noticed something a little . . . um . . . off. I don't know if you noticed, but the last notes on C-4275, C-83172, and P-78468 all used the same magnesium compound. Well, each of those experiments ended . . . less than pleasantly?"

"They exploded. You can say it." I couldn't help the wry grin at Sans' discomfort while we discussed my past follies. Those experiments were early on in my career when I was still trying to find a light source that didn't require a constant supply of power. The objective had been to create an artificial sun that could light up all areas of the Underground and I had decided to use Magnesium as a base. Magnesium burns a brilliant purple for a period of time when it is exposed to the right conditions. When it interacts with any liquid compound, however, it reacts violently and sets off an explosion. Since the flames could not be extinguished with water. It was difficult to contain and they had to be smothered in order to be extinguished.

Those early experiments failed miserably and Nyala never let me hear the end of it. Bringing the projects home to Waterfall, admittedly, was not the smartest course of action for those particular experiments. I nearly took our entire house down. Thank goodness it was before Corbel was born, otherwise Nyala's wrath would have been tenfold.

 _ **Damn it, Gaster! Damn it, Damn it! We've been over this! Just because Sans has a way of stirring up the past, whether it be because he's one of the few other Skeletons you've met, or because he says something that triggers your memory, does NOT give you reason to reminisce- especially on a life you abandoned the moment it got a bit too complicated for you to handle. Damn it, Gaster, you've been running from this for too long! Time to stop and face reality!**_

. . .

. . .

Damn it . . . not again . . .

Every so often . . . ever since my family was . . . Ever since those days, when I have had a moment of weakness, or of nostalgia, or of inner turmoil, a voice has come to greet me. I've come to know it simply as the nagging voice in the back of my mind, or N.V.

N.V. is usually there to offer harsh criticisms and condescending thoughts, keeping me focused on the task at hand. At times, N.V. is little more than a heckling audience. But I have slowly become accustomed to its interruptions and I have even come to expect them. N.V. is part of me now, no matter how I try to deny it or push it away, or choke it out. It is always right there, like an internal rival or a looming shadow.

At the moment, however, it is distracting me from my entry. Let me see, I was talking about the magnesium experiments . . .

"Well, yeah, it exploded!" Sans chuckled thoughtfully, as he looked at another sheet of paper he'd marked in red, "Three times! But this fourth attempt, when you used it in a completely different experiment, you sealed it off in carbon dioxide which seemed to contain the explosion and minimize the effects of the magnesium. Obviously, the addition of the carbon made the reaction less volatile, but I wonder if there's even a way to incorporate more carbon into the compound itself and make it safe enough for the average monster."

My smile spread. There was just something in the enthusiasm behind Sans' voice that really struck a familiar chord with me. Maybe it was listening as he threw all caution and self doubt to the wind or maybe it was watching as his eyes lit up when he started listing off his theories. It was refreshing. It was something I'd never experienced in this place before and something that I hadn't even realized had been missing from it. Sans offered an opportunity that even the most oblivious monster would think idiotic to pass: comradery, insight, and a second pair of eyes.

But first, I would have to test him.

" . . . and if we were to develop a sort of magnesium carbonate polymer that could still be flammable enough to sustain longer and brighter than wax and wicker, but not volatile enough to explode at the first trace of water . . . I think the key is in the ratio between the magnesium and the carbon. And I wonder if there's anything else we can use to—"

"Mr. Serif." I interjected, "Are you proposing an experiment of your own?"

Sans had gone quiet after that, thinking it over and perhaps a bit concerned that he had overstepped his boundaries. His enthusiasm fell as he started to look back over the papers scattered around him. Silently, he stooped over to pick them up and sort them again, being sure to read the results and observations regarding each experiment. Or at least as much as he could, considering he was unable to read the wingdings.

"You see," I continued, trying to bring back that spark in the air that had him so excited, "I had deemed those projects failures. If there's anything you can think of that could help turn that conclusion around, by all means, I would be more than happy to hear your thoughts . . . maybe we could test your theories."

Sans hesitated again. "Oh, geez. I dunno, Dr. Gaster." He muttered as he continued to sort, "I mean, you're the _Royal Scientist_ for a reason, right? You must be some special kind of genius to land a gig like that. And if you couldn't figure it out—"

"I did not have the benefit of a second pair of eyes, nor did I have a second set of gears working toward the same goal. What do you say, Sans? Would you care to try your hand at proving me wrong?"

Sans' eye sockets widened. Perhaps he was excited that I was giving him the opportunity to set up and execute his own experiment, essentially, giving him full access to the lab . . . or perhaps it was merely due to the fact that I had never before addressed him as 'Sans'. He did seem to relax a bit after that as he nodded his acceptance.

Please refer to my log regarding P-78469 for the results of Sans' experiment.

That day, I offered Sans a position as my personal assistant. From then on, he has been working side by side with me and assisting me with my research. His talents were being wasted as an office assistant and in all honesty, I needed the help.

Sans smiled as he shook my hand. It was the third of its kind.

* * *

This is Dr. W.D. Gaster. Entry: 19-363-A

I must say that the addition of other scientific minds has greatly improved the workflow here in the lab. What used to take me months to accomplish can now be proposed, approved, tested, documented and filed within one week. Every day, I am amazed by how much this team has been able to accomplish in just one short year.

Not only that, but now I've had more time to dedicate to the projects King Asgore has requested of me as well as my more . . . personal projects.

By now, it is no secret that I have been charged with the duty of finding a way to destroy the magical barrier that seals every monster below the surface. Development on that front has been far less than spectacular and I have run into several setbacks to the point that any progress has been stunted. Because of the delicate nature of this endeavor, I cannot rely on my team or on my assistant for outside aid or suggestions. And considering where this particular path may lead me, I rather prefer it that way.

The main issue, put bluntly, is that I lack the supplies I need to continue my research and without a single human's soul, there is no way of knowing if any of my experiments have even come close to replicating the phenomenon.

In the meantime, I have set my sights beyond the breaking of the barrier. While many others tend to fantasize about a peaceful and wonderful life once the barrier is broken, I know better of the disease known as the human condition. Humans are destructive by nature. They are prone to violence and tend to resort to their primal tendencies when they "feel threatened." The problem with this philosophy is that humans seem to almost always feel threatened by anything that isn't within their own skins. Often, they will even wage wars against each other for something as petty as the different colors of that skin. If the humans are unable to accept the differences within their own species, how can we possibly expect them to accept us?

The short answer: we couldn't possibly.

While there is no cure for this affliction, we can at least be prepared for what may happen when we are freed from our prison. Sans and I have begun to develop a new armor that can be worn by every monster if / when we are released. The aim is for it to be stronger and more durable than the armor the Royal Guard currently uses while simultaneously being less bulky and lighter in weight in order to be somewhat comfortable for the average monster.

The idea is for it to function as a sort of exoskeleton, so with that idea in mind, we have been trying to replicate bone and strengthen that replication to be even stronger and less likely to fracture.

Using calcified sand granules as inspiration, we began the process. We studied how pearls were made and attempted to replicate that process with various objects in the lab from paper and pens to clothing Sans even offered his shoe as well as a section of his chair. We studied the length of time for calcification to occur as well as the density of the shell produced.

. . . Or the potential shell. In the early experiments, the layers upon layers of the calcium bicarbonate compound we applied never solidified to anything more than a thick creamy pudding-like substance. Sans' shoes were ruined to the point he had to walk around the lab in a pair of slippers for a while and his chair was beyond repair as well.

It was frustrating to say the least. Not to mention I'd run into a similar problem in one of my other Asgore-related projects. Again, I was unable to confide in Sans about my other projects, but if we could figure out how to successfully create this exoskeleton armor, I will be able to continue my other project.

I like to think of it as delegating without disclosing any confidential information.

"Ugh. I just don't get it!" Sans groaned, balling up another sheet of paper and tossing it in the general direction of the trash bin. "Maybe there's something wrong with the objects we chose! Remind me next time just to use my shoe _laces_ okay?"

"You have my word, Sans." I responded in a disgruntled tone to mirror his, "Though, I would strongly suggest you refrain from subjecting any more of your personal belongings to experiments such as these."

"Eh, you've got a point."

Sans' brow furrowed as he glared at the chair, which, by now, was saturated in the creamy mess. "Maybe it's not the objects at all . . . The substance doesn't solidify no matter what we put it on . . . temperature has no effect on that outcome either . . . and it doesn't freeze when locked in the freezer for a week. What the hell is this stuff?"

"I am beginning to think the answer to your question is, 'A complete waste of time.' Well, for now, we may as well call it a night. It looks like there won't be any more progress today."

"Hm?" Sans started as his senses were jolted back to the present. "Oh, yeah. Guess you're right." He lowered his shoulders and rolled his head as he shoved his hands in his pockets in a sign of resignation.

Immediately, I felt a little guilty. Sans would only ever shut off like that when he was near a breakthrough. It was almost as if everyone and everything stopped existing for a while so that he could focus more on his tasks. As long as he was in that trance, he would continue with his calculations and scenarios for as long as he was able to stand. The moment he was distracted from it, however, there was no striking it up again.

"Sans," I prompted a bit cautiously, "What is it? What did you see?"

Sans shrugged as he tapped at the ground with the toe of his slipper, "Oh, it's nothing." He sighed, "I was just wondering if this was anything like that time with the magnesium. If we mess around with the carbon ratios . . . or the calcium . . . or maybe there's not enough organic material . . . Ugh, whatever. Day's over, right? This can wait until tomorrow."

As I had suspected, Sans' thought process had completely halted. I'd torn him away from what could have been the key we needed to solve this predicament.

"Hey, I was thinkin'," Sans continued and it seemed he really had taken off the scientist title for the day. He was cutting himself off and letting his speech become more casual, "There's this new bar and grill down in Snowdin I've been meaning to check out. And yeah, we've been at this armor thing for a while. So I figured, today's as good a day as any if you wanted to come with. Take a load off, y'know?"

I nodded slowly at the proposal, thinking it over carefully. But somewhere, already falling into the back of my mind where that nagging voice lived, Sans' words began to stir and mix alongside my own theories.

"As tempting as that sounds, Sans, I'm afraid I must decline this time. There are still pressing matters which require my attention."

"Ah, man, Gaster. You're not gonna hole yourself up here and keep working on this, are you? C'mon, doc. You need the break too!"

"I appreciate the offer Sans," I pressed, "Perhaps next time, I'll join you. For now, you go on ahead. I've got my evening filled."

Sans shrugged again, "Alright, suit yourself." He started as he removed his lab coat and hung it up against the far wall. "Welp, I'm off then. Do you want anything?"

I hummed, forced to remember which foods I actually enjoyed. "I suppose so. Just bring me back one of whatever you end up getting. Let me know how much it is and I'll be sure to repay you."

Sans let out a chuckle as he took his leave. "Sure thing, boss. Just promise me you won't spend the night in here working on this mess."

"Of course." I answered and Sans shook his head as he exited.

He knew I was lying.

Even several hours later, I was still testing the ratios of the mixture, hoping that I could find the correct balance. This went far beyond the armor experiment. This was steadily becoming a personal challenge. Sans had since returned, singing the praises of "Grillbys" and how I really needed to go with him next time. He seemed a bit riled and rambunctious . . . maybe a bit . . . yes, he was definitely intoxicated.

After a while of this, Sans declared me to be "too boring" and he placed the food he brought on a far away stool and left to find rest in his own room. Still, I refused to let him distract me. He really had been onto something in changing the make up of the mixture and after a while of adding ingredients, I decided to try breaking it down once again. The more I took away from it, the clearer it became. Sans had been absolutely correct! It was almost exactly like the time with the magnesium! But instead of more carbons, the compound called for fewer! Calcium Carbonate! The "bicarbonate" made it more of the viscous mess we had been working with before. This is it! It has to be! Now, the only thing to do is to check back and apply more every few hours for the next week.

That should not be too difficult.

* * *

This is Dr. W.D. Gaster. Entry: 20-031-A

Yesterday marked the second decade since I started work here as the Royal Scientist to the King and Queen. It also marked the birth of the prince of the Underground. Asriel Dreemurr.

With the birth of Prince Asriel, the King has put a rush on finding the solution to the problem with the barrier. I suppose he feels his son should be able to experience a life in which he is not bound by the restrictions the humans set upon us. Maybe he feels his son deserves to see what color the sky is.

 _ **Well, it makes sense. He just wants what's best for his son.**_

Yes, N.V. Yes, I understand, but answer me this: What about all of the _other_ children who have lived and died here without being able to share in that same luxury? Why don't they deserve to make their wishes on real stars? What is so special about Asriel that he merits that I try harder to do the impossible.

 _ **Who said it's because of Asriel?**_

What else could it be? Why else would he suddenly want to rush this?

 _ **Well, if it bothers you so much, don't do it for Asriel. Do it because there are so many who are relying on you. So many who, like you said, deserve to see the sun and make wishes on stars.**_

 _ **Do it because Corbel would have wanted to see it too.**_

But Corbel will never be able to see the sky! He was never able to witness the stars glittering overhead! He wasn't even able to enjoy the feel of grass!

 _ **And is that Asriel's fault?**_

. . . well, no . . . Damn it . . . My fists clenched on the table before me. The mold lying motionless there in the dim lights of the room.

 _ **Is Asriel any less deserving than Corbel. Is any other child?**_

No, okay, N.V.!? Is that what you want to hear!? No, they are not any less deserving than my . . . than Corbel was! Any parent would want to show their child a life beyond this place. I know I wanted the same thing. That's all that's going on. And Asgore just so happens to be the king . . . The sentiment is touching even if it is a bit late for most other parent's.

 _ **Then, what's stopping you? You have your solution. You have your reason. You have your method. What's keeping you back?**_

My clenched hand unfurled and I raised it to cradle my own skull. N.V. did have a point. With the discovery Sans and I made last month with the calcium carbonate, I could easily begin work on my vessel. If I could complete that, I could at least report that to Asgore. Who knows? Maybe it will get him off my back for a while.

The following is a summary of what we know already:

The barrier can be crossed with one monster soul and one human soul and broken if seven human souls are gathered. Ideally, the souls should resemble the qualities of the mages who created the barrier in the first place. Fortunately for us, the number of souls outweighs the quality. The difficulty lies in synthesizing a human soul and finding a way to merge that with a monster's soul without drastically changing that monster into something the humans would fear.

My plan: Create a powerful vessel that could house human and monster souls without becoming what the humans would classify as terrifying. I would send this vessel up into the human world to collect the souls needed to break the barrier. All this is work toward the King's request . . .

But this project has always had a bit of a personal aspect to it as well and that personal aspect came with the design of this vessel. I had known from the beginning this vessel would resemble a skeleton. Something that would be less likely to be attacked. For some reason, Humans are less hostile toward Skeleton monsters and some humans even idolize them. This was the reason behind the experimentation with the calcium bicarbonate polymer. I would use the results of those tests and form a skeletal structure to be my vessel. But until last month, however, all of my experiments had been complete failures.

When Sans suggested changing the formula, I had been eager to try it on both experiments. When we had finally created a stable prototype for the armor, I decided to try it for my vessel as well.

The only thing left is to do it.

 _ **This is the one. This time you have everything you need. This time, you will succeed.**_

I hesitated a moment. Well, this is a first. I've never known the N.V. to be encouraging. But even it seems to feel confident about the vessel now, and I suppose this is a good thing . . . ? I'll just go with it.

 _ **Besides, perhaps this way, you can have your wish as well. Corbel will be able to see the sky.**_

* * *

This is Dr. W.D. Gaster. Entry 20-031-B

I've done it.

The Skeletal form of my vessel is complete. It took me a long while to shape. This time, however, there was a certain level of confidence that had never been there before. There is no doubt in my mind that this vessel is the one! This is the vessel that will change life for the Underground even more than the Core. This vessel will be my crowning achievement! This will be the creature who will see the surface and return to empty the underground just like the legend of the delta crest . . . and to think that I will be the one to bring the prophecy into fruition.

But why stop there? There is so much more I could do with this! After all, once the barrier is broken, what will become of the vessel? It would need a sense of purpose. How about . . . Well, perhaps I could . . .

*ahem*

As I look now over the lifeless form, I realize that I am being presented with a second opportunity . . . a chance to be a . . .

I cannot pass up this opportunity.

It has been so long since I left my former life behind. Almost fifteen years now. Even with the almost constant interruption from N.V. I have to remind myself that once upon a time and long ago, I had been a father . . . I'd had a wife and a son. And as much as I have tried to push that life aside when it had all come crumbling down, I have to admit to myself that I do miss it. And if I could at least have part of that life back . . . how could I possibly turn away from it?

Something else about what Sans was muttering last month has resonated deep within me to the point that even N.V. has latched onto the concept and has been pressuring me into it for weeks now. Perhaps adding organic material could strengthen the core of the vessel even more . . . not only that, but . . .

I have to try. I would always wonder and N.V. would never let me sleep if I didn't.

I think I still have it in my desk.

. . .

The tubes were right where I left them. This is the only organic material I can think of that would suffice for a situation such as this. If I mix Corbel's remaining dust with this mold, not only will the vessel be strengthened, but Corbel will have the opportunity to live on beyond the confines of the Underground! He can see all of the things I'd promised him! Just like N.V. said!

But it will not do just to spread the dust over the form I've shaped and leave it at that. No, the whole thing will have to be remodeled. I will deconstruct this form and thoroughly mix Corbel's dust into the malleable internal structure of the vessel.

* * *

This is Dr. W.D. Gaster. Entry 20-031-C

This vessel will be more than just a Skeleton in shape, it will be a Skeleton in every other aspect as well. More than just a Skeleton: this vessel symbolizes the rebirth of my son. I mixed the entirety of Corbel's dust in with the clay-like substance I have been using as the internal structure of the Skeleton. From there, I reshaped the form. But to do my son justice, I needed to make sure every little detail was perfect. And for this, I couldn't use a predetermined cookie-cutter mold. I needed to take more time and do it properly.

Of course, I realize that the vessel has to be large enough to carry a monster soul and seven human souls . . . so my new Corbel can't be the child I lost. Instead, I knew I had to shape the form to fit what Corbel would have looked like if he had been given the opportunity to grow. As a child, his limbs had been long and he had been a thin little boy, so there was no doubt that he would have been tall. And Corbel took after his mother in the length of his fingers, but he had my rectangular palms . . . I chose to leave his palms whole.

His torso had been long as well. As I shaped him, I made sure the spine was strong and long to make sure he retained that feature. His chest would have to be broad and the rib cage would have to be strong enough to house and protect the souls, while remaining anatomically sound.

And the face . . . the face was the hardest part. As I formed the face, I couldn't fight back the memories from flooding back. As I formed the face of my son, every game, every laugh, every smile, every cry . . . every fight . . . every cough . . . every cloud of bone dust rammed against the edges of my memory. I had to step away. A part of me shattered all over again and I doubted I would be able to go through with it.

 _ **So, once again, you're running away, are you? Did it suddenly get too real for you? Look, Gaster, I told you, you can't keep turning your back on these things just because they might sting a little! What kind of weak-minded monster runs away from his family?**_

Stop it, N.V! This has nothing to do with you! This is none of your damned business!

 _ **What do you mean it has nothing to do with me? It has everything to do with me! Let me put it into perspective for you. Before today, when was the last time you even looked at those vials? In these past thirteen years, when was the last time you visited the place where Nyala fell? Oh yeah, that would be**_ _ **never**_ _ **! Before today, when was the last time you even**_ _ **acknowledged**_ _ **you had a family? Does Sans know their names? Does he know they even existed?**_

You leave Sans out of this! Don't you dare drag him down in this!

 _ **Alright then, let's keep this all about you! What kind of pathetic excuse for a soul abandons the chance for a happy reunion when he is literally and figuratively inches away from it!? You've come this far and you've already added the dust. There's no turning back now. You have no choice! You have to complete him!**_

I . . . I can't. This isn't right. I should never have added Corbel's dust. This . . . this was a mistake.

 _ **Bullshit. You did this because you wanted to. You wanted your son back, didn't you? Well, here is your opportunity. He's lying right there. Just finish him.**_

This project has become too personal . . . I will have to scrap the whole thing and start again from scratch . . . even if it means I've lost the last bit of Corbel I had left . . .

 _ **Bullshit again.**_

I can't do this.

 _ **Bullshit! You can and you will. Look, it's easy. Just don't think about how he died. Think about how he was when he was alive and healthy. That is the son you're getting back after all. The same thing CANNOT happen a second time. This life is artificial. He will NEVER get sick. He will NEVER fall to the same disease that you so selfishly inflicted on him. Now get back in there and finish the job!**_

Once again, N.V. was right. The Corbel I was bringing back was not the child who was battling with disease. He could not get sick like that again. This new Corbel was stronger and immune to that kind of pain. After a moment, I gathered myself once again and I was able to finish constructing his face.

Corbel had been a very handsome little boy and doubtless, he would have grown to be just as handsome. His eyes had been bright and full of curiosity, and his jaw was strong even for his age. His cheek bones would have been so defined as an adult, so I had to make sure to indicate that as well. And his smile. The smile that seemed to spread clear across his face . . .

I did it. I have created something magnificent. This vessel is going to be the one to liberate every monster from this underground prison. Not only that . . . but it would bring something back into my life that I believed I had lost a long time ago. No, I could never get that time with Corbel back . . . but this way, it was almost like I have been able to give him his life back. With the addition of Corbel's dust. This project should start to take on more monster-like qualities, specifically the qualities of my caring and observant and inquisitive son.

* * *

This is Dr. W.D. Gaster. Entry 20-074- A

The form has been completed for over a month. On a day when the lab was closed and I had given Sans the day off, I used a chamber in the Core as a sort of kiln and set the clay substance to solidify the form I made. Since then, I have been steadily adding layer after layer of the calcium carbonate mixture over him, creating a thick shell that will be able to protect him. Last night, I applied the final coat.

All that is left is to activate him.

For this, I know it calls for a bit of a personal sacrifice. I had known it ever since before I had written my first formula for the project. In order to activate this vessel, I would have to give up a bit of my own life.

This will be a magical exchange of power and energy. I do not yet know how this will effect me, but I suspect it will take away from my Max HP. After all, after the exchange, Corbel will need to . . . this project will need to be able to sustain on his own . . . on its own. He will need a reserve. And for him, I will gladly provide.

I have taken the HP reader from the examination room downstairs and brought it here in order to monitor the exchange. The nodes have been attached, we have both been linked to the machine and I am ready to begin. The _moment_ he has enough HP to sustain at the basic level, I will disconnect. Ten should do it for now, I think.

There will be ample opportunity for him to earn more HP when the time comes. For now, it is not necessary.

I admit I am . . . apprehensive. Please allow me a moment to collect myself . . . In just a few moments, I will be attempting something that others would have called borderline deranged. And I am certain even N.V. would be inclined to agree with the assessment.

Essentially, I am about to raise the dead.

. . . or perhaps what I am doing is _creating_ Death. I am very well aware of the human legend of the "Grim Reaper" who is a cloaked skeletal figure with the ability to absorb a human's life force just by touching them . . . It had been the inspiration behind this vessel, and it is _exactly_ what I have just built. My own personal human death machine.

Oh my, why would I be laughing at such a thought? And . . . even this smile is a bit foreign. It feels dark and a bit sinister as it caters to my more twisted fantasies.

I must focus. I must banish the smile and the laughter to direct my attention to the task at hand.

Even as I stand over the form once again, there is a feeling that makes me hesitate to continue. On one hand, I am ecstatic. If this all goes according to plan, it really could mean the end of monster suffering once and for all- at least as it pertains to the barrier. It would be as good as destroyed and everyone would finally be able to return to the surface. Above all that, Corbel will finally be able to witness all of the things I could only tell him about before. I will finally be able to keep my promise to him . . . On the other hand, I am absolutely terrified. If this project is unsuccessful like all of my others . . .

 _ **Focus, Gaster! You can't dwell on that right now. Just begin the transfer! The sooner you do . . .**_

The sooner I'll know.

 _ **Then let's begin.**_

The machine sounds like it's ready and the silhouette can be seen. For now, there is only mine, but that will change soon.

 _ **Just get on with it! And make sure you're detailed with your dictation. This is for posterity after all.**_

Fine, fine. This experiment falls under category: P. The experiment number: 497. This is attempt: 305. From now on, I will be referring to this simply as P-497305. This is it. After months of continuous research and countless failures, I have finally found the proper combination needed for this experiment to retain its form. I must take a moment here to note that without the input of my assistant, C. Sans Serif, it is possible that I never would have been able to find the correct ratios. Thank you, Sans for your contribution.

If this attempt is successful, the King will finally have his miracle and the Underground will finally have its Liberator. However, if this goes the way of every one of his . . . of the preceding experiments . . .

I have given absolutely everything I have left . . .

. . . This will be my final attempt using this method . . .

*ahem*

I must exercise caution when channeling the energy into the vessel. As it is, P-497305 is completely receptive. Any contact I make, I believe will siphon my energy and direct it into the vessel. All it should take is a single . . .

Damn it, that's hot! But the second silhouette flashed for a moment on the monitor. This is clearly the correct course of action. If I place one hand on either side of the skull . . .

HRRRGNNNN! It burns! The longer I hold on, the more intensely it – GAHH! HNNNNGGGHH! Not only that, but my vision . . . My vision is compromised! I can't see! How much have I . . .

It's starting to go dark. Perhaps, I should . . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

How long has it been?

I see that the machine is still active and both silhouettes are clearly visible now.

How is it that I have given THIRTY from my Max HP to the vessel!? Damn . . . I never intended . . .

Well, there is no point in lamenting it now. What's done is done.

It is still a bit difficult to stand. I expect it will take a bit longer for my strength to return to me. For now, I will simply observe.

The vessel seems to have received the HP, other than that, there has yet to be any notable change. He is still immobile and has not yet awakened. Perhaps he, too, will require time enough for his new strength to find him.

Wait! Wait . . . the hand shifted . . . both hands now, and his face . . . He's trying to wake himself!

His eyes have opened into slits. This . . . this is remarkable! He's beginning to stir! He's waking up!

H-his eyes are opened! I am unsure as of yet if he is able to focus or comprehend what he sees. I am unsure if he can see at all! But, my god . . . if this isn't the most . . .

His attention has shifted! He's responding to the sound of my voice! He is trying to locate the source of the sound! He has spotted me and his eyes have opened completely! He's awake! He is awake and alive!

Oh! Good morning, son!

* * *

 **AN: Congratulations! You can all fluently read wingdings! Doesn't that feel amazing!?**

 **Thank you everyone for bearing with me through all of this! It's been a bit of a crazy ride, hasn't it!? Man there was just SO much to say! I can't believe it took me this long to get it all out there! So, there you have it! We are now completely caught up with Gaster's Backstory and we can get back to the main story with a little more understanding of how Gaster thinks and the influence that's at work in his head. (If you'd like to know the true nature of the voice in Gaster's head, just say its initials out loud) Well, anyway, you now know where he came from and why things happened the way they did. And why things will happen the way they will. I hope to be able to get back into that by the next chapter.**

 **Or wait . . . there might just be a little more to the story. There's one more entry that might be significant. After all, he was able to at least symbolically bring Corbel back, but we haven't seen why he hated P-497305 so much that he was willing to destroy every trace of him. Maybe this next entry will put that question to rest.**

* * *

 **Bonus Entry:**

This is Dr. W.D. Gaster. Entry 23-360-D

. . . Something terrible has happened . . .

It has been nearly four years since the vessel P-497305 has been active. It had so much promise to be everything I knew it could be. The potential was there and so much progress had been made. It could walk, focus, respond to directions. It knew how to use and manifest its magic to create strong bone attacks. It was able to read a situation and act accordingly. It even knew when an opponent was low on HP and, not wanting to make dust of his opponent, could instantly modify a crushing finishing blow to one that would merely render the target unconscious.

When I introduced it to my assistants, it almost immediately gained the approval of all who saw it and interacted with it. Even Sans, who was originally skeptical of the vessel, was inevitably won over by its childlike charm.

Of course it couldn't last.

Why I had been expecting it to is beyond me.

Nothing ever truly lasts, does it?

In order to correctly account what happened, I will have to recount the events of early last month:

Near the end of shift one night, I noticed there was a severe lack of activity around the lab. I found this a bit suspicious considering I am normally being bombarded with question after question by monsters seeking approval to continue with their assigned projects or trying to verify they interpreted their directions correctly. The assistants had not been excused for the day, there was still clean-up and prep for tomorrow that needed taking care of. Why in the world was it so quiet? Even Sans was missing.

There was a call on the overhead. Sans' voice called for me to come to the atrium on the top level right away. There was something there that needed my immediate attention.

Of course, I responded right away, rushing to the atrium, but nothing could have prepared me for what I found.

P-497305 seemed to have fallen comatose. It was laid out as if sleeping over the threadbare carpet of the front lobby, unresponsive and still.

Lying beside it was . . . were . . . well, perhaps "parts" would have been the best word to describe it. Pieces?

The body of the human child was mangled almost beyond recognition, but the tattered remains of a small dress alerted me that the child had once been female. The hair was a matted bloody mane, the face had been burned so badly that even now, the smell has refused to dissipate. The arms had been broken in several places and the body had suffered cuts so deep that I was surprised to find the inner workings still inside the creature. The foot had been removed so only one of the girl's blood stained white-strapped sandals made it to where the rest of the body had ended up.

"Was the soul obtained?"

The silence following my question was overwhelming. It seems the others were more focused on the condition of the human rather than what was really important here. This was the first human to fall into the Underground since the war! There was no saying how long it would be before another came to us.

Sans looked to me for a quick moment with incredulity in his eyes. A moment later, he turned his face away.

"yes." He answered and the tone in his voice was darker than I'd ever heard from him. He seemed to be absolutely torn up about the scene in front of him, "it was a blue soul. light blue like the sk . . . like the little dress she'd been wearing. the soul has been sealed in a container like we discussed and is awaiting processing."

"Excellent. Good work. Now, we will have to clean up this mess and dispose of the carcass before leaving for the day. I will write a report to alert King Asgore of the discovery. Congratulations, we are now one soul closer to—"

"aren't you the _least_ bit curious how this happened, doctor?!" Sans interrupted, something in his temper snapping despite the quiet rumble his voice had taken on, "don't you even want to know how she got here? or what happened to her that she ended up . . . like this . . . ? she fell into the underground by accident. she was scared. she was just waiting for her parents to come find her . . . like they told her to do."

"Sans, I fail to see what this has to do with—"

"thinking that she could find her own way out, she stopped waiting patiently and she wandered to the outskirts of the ruins where the structure isn't nearly as sound. that's where pap . . . p-497305 and i found her. she was terrified of us and she dropped her toy knife and ran calling for her mommy and daddy. she tripped on a loose stone . . . and it caused a rock-slide . . ."

"Then we will have to alert the other monsters around to avoid the outskirts of the ruins. Perhaps there may even be a way for them to be repaired. But until then—"

"she was crushed by the weight of the stones!" Sans jumped in again, a bit of a bite to his voice now as he continued his oral report, "she was dead before we could get to her! but that didn't stop p-497305. he fought through the rubble to get to her. he pulled boulders out of the way like it was almost nothing, but even he couldn't lift the stones that pinned her to the ground . . . i couldn't even budge it, so he pulled . . . his touch burned her, but he was determined to get her out."

. . . the fact that P-497305 burned her with only a touch told me that even though the human had been crushed by rubble, the child was still alive in there before being pulled from the debris. I was certain she would have died either way, but hearing the distress in Sans' voice as he recounted the story, I found I was unable to correct him and tell him the truth about the human.

"he pulled until she was freed, but even then he refused to put her down. he walked all the way here with her body in his arms to bring her to you. maybe he thought you could help her . . . but as soon as we made it back, he collapsed. not that you asked. i just thought you'd like to know how the human met her end."

I let the moment end on its own, not wanting to respond too quickly. The ordeal and the story had obviously taken a lot out of Sans and by the end of it, he was nearly glaring at me as if judging me by my reaction or lack thereof.

"You are correct, Sans." I acknowledged, "I don't believe I asked for this information, but I do thank you for it."

Obviously, that was not the correct response. Sans' glare deepened, "don't mention it." He grit through his teeth.

He was silent for the rest of the night.

P-497305 did not respond for a few days afterward, but eventually, it stirred.

Which leads me to this evening.

Again, it was the end of shift and again, P-497305 had failed the day's tests. Ever since the incident with the human child, this had been the new expected outcome. The assistant who had been assigned to monitor his progress today had just finished up her written analysis. But as she reached out to lead the project from the examination room, P-497305 reacted. It reacted extremely violently.

He . . . must have seen her as a threat, approaching him so soon after a battle simulation. At least that is how Sans justifies it. P-497305 attacked her, using the full extent of its magic against her. Even though her catlike reflexes allowed her to dodge his attacks as she attempted to defend herself. She didn't have the same endurance as P-497305. She called for help.

We came, but we came too late.

When we arrived, all we saw was P-497305 standing over a pile of dust, the clothing and the glasses of the monster had fallen to the floor, her clipboard clamored to the ground as the orange glow of the burst of magical energy faded.

At the gasps and cries and screams of the other assistants, the vessel's attention was once again alerted and the fierce glow returned stronger and brighter this time so that the glow almost seemed red. Is it possible that with the demise of the first monster, had the vessel gained an LV?!

There was no other warning. P-497305 attacked, sending bones hurtling toward the entire group! In a moment of panic, I summoned my own bone projectiles and fired them as precisely as I could, cancelling out the vessel's attack. Meanwhile, Sans dodged the bone flying toward him and used his blue magic to quickly move the other spectators out of the way. It was as if we had rehearsed what to do in this situation. In moments, the entirety of the group had been moved (relatively) safely into a neighboring hall with only minor injuries.

"You guys get out of here!" Sans ordered, sending them further down the hall. Heal yourselves, get the Royal Guard if you have to, just get away from here!"

The others obeyed without question and righted themselves to escape. In the moments that followed, Sans found his way to my side and was ready to use his magic against P-497305.

There was no need.

As soon as Sans used his blue magic to pin the vessel to the ground and inhibit its movements, the magic that seemed to fill its being flickered and dimmed. It soon faded completely, leaving an immobile frame.

Panting and fighting to catch his breath, Sans released the vessel. I, however, remained alert and ready to strike if that thing so much as moved its finger.

There's no way! There's no way that thing could have _any_ semblance to my Corbel! It may have his dust, and I may even have shaped it to look as close to him as I could, but that is where any similarities end! My Corbel would _never_ have done that to another monster! Even if he were scared, he would _never_ bring himself to kill another monster! Doing so made him . . . it made that _thing_ worse than human! It was . . . a disgrace . . . an abomination!

Moments later, there was a hand to my arm. Sans grabbed at the sleeve to my coat and stayed my hand. I hadn't even realized how much magic I had been accumulating. Several jagged bone fragments had been summoned and poised to attack.

"I don't think he's moving, Doc." Sans sighed. "I think he's down. You can call off your attack."

I released the magic and the attack was dismissed.

Sans took a step forward. Taking in the sight. "So," he began, "How do you wanna do this?"

His tone was still a bit dark when he spoke to me directly. He was still upset with me for some reason, but he knew well how to push his personal feelings aside for the sake of work.

I decided that P-497305 would need to be locked away until we can figure out what to do with it. I took it upon myself to store it away until it wakes again.

In the meantime, I had Sans collect the fallen monster's dust and her personal effects and find a container in which to store them until tomorrow. I considered the possibility of alerting her family tonight to inform them of what transpired here . . . but I thought better of it. No one should be awakened in the middle of the night with news like that. Let them have one last night of peaceful sleep.

In the morning, I will have to find some way to explain to them just how she died . . .


	10. Field Trip

**AN: Ladies and gentlemen, we are back! After a two month hiatus, Chapter 8 is FINALLY here!**

 **But just because this story has had a bit of a pause, doesn't mean there hasn't been stuff to report! I've got some pretty exciting news I'd like to share before we get into the story.**

 **For those of you who don't know, I am now a published author! I've just released my first Young Adult novel titled "Surpassing Origins"! If you like sci-fi/ fantasy stories with of self discovery and self acceptance, If you are a fan of stories like Percy Jackson; Superman; X-men; Dragon Ball Z; and Sailor Moon, If you are a fan of this fanfiction and you don't want to wait months for the next chapter, then, I invite you to check out "Surpassing Origins".**

 **"Surpassing Origins" is now available on Amazon for $13.99 and it will also be available on Kindle soon! Just look up the book title by name or search the name Jes Mychel. Thank you and I hope you enjoy the story! Let me know what you think! I'm always eager for feedback!**

 **That being said, welcome back to Sticks and Stones! For those who may have gotten lost or have forgotten since it has been so long, after three chapters, we are about to leap out of Gaster's past and join him back in the present right after the fight in which he discovered Papyrus' soul and that Sans has taken the responsibility of being his brother!**

 **Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Chapter 8**

* * *

 **Chapter 8**

 **Field Trip**

It was the sound of laughter that awoke Gaster from his uneasy sleep. His eyes opened slowly as his focus adjusted back to his room.

He must have been exhausted, not even having made it past his couch and he found himself in an undignified sprawl with an arm and a leg hanging off of the edge. He had to squint in order to see past the lingering haze, and for some reason, it seemed to be taking its sweet time leaving his vision.

Still the laughter sounded off as if it were an alarm.

So it wasn't part of his dream . . . nightmare . . . er . . . memories? No, it didn't sound like anyone he knew. In fact, the bright tones and shallow capacity suggested the laughs belonged to children.

Gaster's eyes shot open at that thought. Children!? In the lab!?

He pulled himself off of the couch and up onto unstable legs. All at once, the world seemed to spin as he forced himself to wake completely. How the hell did children find their way into this facility!? All at once, he pushed his way out into the hallway, nearly forgetting to put on his shoes before leaving. His shoes, he put on, but he decided the lab coat wasn't needed.

It was odd to think how much time had already passed since he laid down. The morning was already spent and already it was nearing the time the team would have taken a lunch break. As he stepped out of his office, he was sure to note any activity in the halls. The laughs were coming from somewhere down the long hallway in the direction of the elevator. He would have to intercept the children before they hurt themselves . . . Or worse . . . Before they saw anything they shouldn't.

He followed the sound of the small voices and the closer he got, the more he was able to hear what they were saying. -

"Um . . . I really don't think we should be down this far." The first voice said timidly, his laughter carried a tone of slight trepidation, "Dad says this place is off limits."

"Oh, c'mon." The second voice jeered with a surer and boisterous note to it, "Quit being such a baby! What's the point of going on an adventure if there's no risk to it! Don't you ever wonder what they work on down here all day? What about the mad scientist who never leaves? Don't you wanna find him!? Brag that you stared him in the face and lived to tell the tale?"

Gaster frowned at that. Is that why they decided to trespass on restricted property? Were they so bold that they could waltz right in without once considering those who may live here? Lab or no lab, this place was his home . . . and Sans' and right now, these children were trespassing into his home. One child, at least, seemed appropriately apprehensive about the venture, but that second . . . No regard for boundaries at all.

Even with that aside, he couldn't deny their words stung a bit. Gaster never thought he'd hear the day he would be reduced to a "mad scientist". He did suppose it was true that he had become a bit reclusive since he moved to the lab from Waterfall, but how did that merit madness? Now, if they could see his latest project . . . then maybe . . .

Gaster chuckled to himself. If that's what the children were expecting . . . Perhaps he could use it to his advantage.

"Eh . . . I guess so . . ." The first child began again and he seemed a bit resigned as he gave in to the other's wishes. "But you're the one who wanted to come here in the first place. Did you have to bring me along too?"

"There you go being a baby! Look, if you're too chicken to go on, then wait here, but I'm gonna go find him!"

"No! No, don't leave me _alone_!"

"Make up your mind! . . . . Oh geez, don't tell me you're gonna cry again!"

"N-No! I'm not crying! I just . . . we should get back if we wanna get Dad's pie done before—"

"Shhhh!" The other child interrupted, "Shh, I think I hear something!

All speech and all noise came to an abrupt stop as Gaster kept onward, his footsteps echoing off the walls and filling the corridor with a haunting sensation.

The first child whispered the second's name, after which he was promptly "shushed" again.

"I think it's him."

Suddenly, Gaster wished he had his lab coat with him. It would have made for a more intimidating silhouette.

As he approached, he took note of the two tiny figures at the end of the hall. One, he recognized right away as Prince Asriel. The boy seemed small, fuzzy and meek as he cowered behind the second. Something would have to be done about that boy if he was to ever become his father's successor. There's no way such a frail and unsure creature could ever rule over monsters, especially if he had to hide behind the . . . other . . . unfamiliar child . . . the human child the royal family took in.

No, that wouldn't do at all . . .

Gaster used his towering stature to his advantage and stopped mere feet away from the children, looking downward at them as if they would be nothing but a minor inconvenience if he were to "accidently" step on them. His face was smooth and his tone was dark and even as he addressed them.

"And what are you two doing here?" Gaster demanded.

The children seemed unmoved . . . or rather, one of the children seemed unmoved. Asriel seemed appropriately intimidated, bringing his shoulders up to his ears as he turned his face away. The human, however, stood as tall as they could, which in all honesty, was not an impressive feat. They stood opposite Gaster, their eyes fixed and a slight frown in place. Was it a show of bravery? Were they trying to prove a point by not reacting . . . or were they taking a stand to actually _protect_ the prince from the "mad scientist"?

" _You're_ one they were talking about!?" The child chided, "The ghastly hermit who's trying to harvest humans for their souls?"

Gaster raised a brow. He hadn't been expecting that reaction, but with his even demeanor, he nodded once, locking eyes with the human. "I am." He tilted his head in the slightest of bows, "Dr. W.D. Gaster, the Royal Scientist to King Asgore and Queen Toriel."

"What a joke." The child groaned, "All those stories . . . I thought you were supposed to be scary! You don't even _look_ like a scientist! I'm supposed to be afraid of _you_?"

"I apologize if I fail to live up to your expectations, human." Gaster bit, his voice dropping a significant interval. "Tell me, what would you have me do if I were to be the truly terrifying monster of your nightmares?"

The child shoved their hands in their pockets and shrugged, their green striped sweater brushing the ends of their brown mop of hair in a way that reminded Gaster very much of the shaggy fur of an animal, or a rag doll.

"Oh, I dunno." The human sighed, "I heard you like to experiment on humans- find out what makes us tick. Dissect us and tear us limb-from-limb, just to see how we function. They say that when you're done with us and after you collect our souls, you drain our blood and strip our flesh for your next meal. You look _nothing_ like that!?"

Gaster couldn't help it. A wide grin pulled at his face and he laughed, his head tilting back to release the sound openly into the air. Though the intent was not there, the sound was more intimidating than his initial approach. The dark notes filled the hallway and rattled in the children's ears and though he didn't see it, both children actually shuddered at the sound.

"Where on Earth did you hear such an extravagant tale!?" Gaster laughed, visibly trying to regain his composure. In a matter of moments, the sound died, though the wide grin remained, his eyes narrowing as he looked again toward the human, "Though, if that was what you were truly expecting to happen when you met up with me, it could still be arranged." His magic flared and a green aura sprung to existence around the human's soul, trapping them in place, as he bent at the waist to see the human eye to eye, "After all, it's been so long since I've enjoyed the taste of human flesh that just the mere mention of it is beginning to stir up a craving."

It was said with a disbelieving and sarcastic tone, but the show was enough to get the prince's attention. From his spot behind the human, Asriel stood up straight, clutching something tightly in his grip.

"No, Mr. Gaster, please don't eat them! They're my friend!"

Again, Gaster fought off a laugh, keeping it as a low chortle that never left his throat. Surely, the prince knew that there wasn't a monster alive who would ever want to _eat_ a human. Naïve little boy. In a show of good faith, however, he released the human's soul, to which the child gripped lightly at their chest.

"Worry not, young prince." He answered, "It was never my intention . . . to . . ."

Something else caught Gaster's attention as Asriel stepped from behind the human. The thing he had been clutching in his hands, left to hang at his side. A plastic pail with a complementary shovel clattered hollow notes as Gaster focused directly on it. The faded star stickers adorning the container struck a chord of familiarity within Gaster as if a hammer had hit a steel rail.

In the back of his mind, he could hear distinct laughter once again, though it hadn't come from the children standing before him. Thoughts of those children faded as the memory of the warm trilling of a child even younger resurfaced. The young boy swung the pail in which he had started his collection of rocks- a few types from each region so he could study what made them different. It was the laughter of a boy who wanted to grow up to be just like his father.

Instantly forced back to the present, Gaster kept his eyes fixed on the pail and the stickers.

"Where did you get that?" He demanded solidly, almost harshly. Any sign of the monster who had been playing with the children vanished and the mirth was immediately dissipated. And now that it was gone, the children could feel the sudden shift in the tense atmosphere of the room. "How could you have possibly . . ."

"O-oh, this . . . ?" Asriel stammered raising the pail, "You-you see, there's this really nice Skeleton man upstairs. He-he said he found it while he was cleaning. Anyway, he said I could have it as an early birthday present! He said I could use it to help Dad with his garden!"

Gaster seemed to have fallen into a trance as Asriel explained. So it was Sans . . . of course it was Sans. He must have found the box of Corbel's old things . . . the things Gaster had gone back for in a particularly troubling moment of weakness. And of course Sans didn't know what he was looking at . . . or to whom the items belonged . . . or why the items in that box held such sentimental value. He had just been told to sort through them . . . and destroy everything he did not feel was pertinent. Of course he would have thought that Corbel's things . . .

"Perhaps the two of you should be going now." Gaster droned in a voice somewhere between a sigh and a whisper, "I cannot be responsible for your getting lost down here. In fact, perhaps it will be best if I deliver you to the king myself."

"Oh! No, that's okay!" Asriel assured, taking the human's hand and backing several steps away to put some distance between them and the Skeleton man who was obviously emotionally unstable.

"I must insist you come with me." Gaster pressed, taking the human's other hand and leading both children back through the hall. "There have been advancements about which I have been meaning to inform the king and what better opportunity is there than while returning his snooping children?"

From a step behind him, the human child groaned in one part frustration and one part discomfort as they were led away. They shot a look back to Asriel as if to demand why the prince wasn't ordering the scientist to unhand them. In response, Asriel gave a small smile and a nervous laugh, but otherwise remained quiet, as he was led away as well, still gripping the human's hand. Any excuse to get out of the creepy lab was okay with him.

* * *

It was supposed to be a relaxing day off after spring cleaning, right? And in a way, he supposed it was. After all, who wouldn't want to spend the day fishing for stuff down at the dump? But still, Papyrus needed some stuff if he was going to be living with Sans. And quite a few of the things he needed couldn't be found easily, which meant Sans would either have to create it or salvage it.

But that could come later, the idea of today's outing was to take Papyrus and see what he was all about. What kinds of things did he like? What was he drawn to?

So, the moment they reached the dump, Sans pretty much just turned Papyrus loose, letting him dig through the trash piles and pick out things that stood out to him. In the meantime, Sans let himself fall into a pile of trash, making himself a throne out of the refuse. He busied himself with reading over the packages and containers.

"Brother!" Papyrus called, not for the first time, once again bringing Sans back to reality, "This one?"

The permanent smile on Sans' face spread and turned fond as he chuckled to himself. That was one thing about Papyrus that he was able to pick up on very quickly. He seemed to have a certain thirst . . . no, it was more of a desperate _need_ for approval. With everything he picked up, Papyrus would ask for Sans' opinion. If he thought it was cool, Papyrus would like it too and put it with the pile of things he wanted to keep. If Sans showed any sign of disapproval, however slight, Papyrus would discard it – even if he seemed reluctant to do so.

Seeing this happen once or twice, Sans immediately changed his approach.

Like this time, for example, as Papyrus held up another orange sweater (He seemed to _really_ like bright warm tones like reds, oranges, and yellows- noted), instead of asking why he felt he needed four, Sans shrugged, turning his opinion into a choice.

"I dunno, bro." Sans sighed, trying to remain as neutral as possible, "We're not here for me. Do _you_ like the sweater?"

Papyrus held up the garment once again, still trying to discern Sans' thoughts on it. Eventually, he had to ask himself the same question. The concept of "like" was still relatively new, but Papyrus did understand that certain items would bring about different reactions. While digging through the piles, for example, Papyrus was on observation mode as well. He witnessed the way his brother's smile would change from time to time when he noticed something that was somehow different from the other things in the piles around them. Upon first glance, there was nothing special about the container, or the wrapper, but it obviously caused a reaction in Sans and his smile turned into something pleasant. Did that mean he "liked" that thing?

Did this sweater produce the same kind of reaction in him? Did any of these things?

Well, maybe it wasn't quite like Sans, but these sweaters, those shorts, that . . . transforming robot . . . (Sans had called it an action figure . . . ?) That book. They did somehow feel . . . different than the other things he saw here.

"I do." He ultimately replied.

"Then, you should probably keep it, don't'cha think?"

"Then, I will!" Papyrus cheered, "Thank you, brother!"

Sans, chuckled, still not used to his new name, "No sweat."

Sans leaned back, crossing his arms behind his head as he let himself relax. Papyrus was on a good track and he seemed to understand just how to narrow down his decisions. Perhaps he didn't need him anymore. Maybe Sans would be able to get some rest for a –"

"Brother?" Papyrus called again.

"Like I said, Pap. We're not here for things I like. You should focus on yourself for now."

"No." Papyrus answered plainly, and at the solid tone, Sans redirected his attention once again.

"What is it, bro?"

"Someone is here!"

At that, Sans pushed himself to a sitting position once again and turned to where Papyrus had his gaze trained off into the distance. Steadily, Sans pulled himself to his feet as well, just in case.

"Hello!?" He called. If someone was lurking in the shadows, it would just be plain rude not to respond. "Hey, who's there?"

"W-wait," the voice responded, trying to sort something out in their own head, "S-sans?"

A small yellow lizard woman shuffled out from behind one of the piles of trash on the far side of the dump. How Papyrus had been able to hear her from way over there was astounding, noteworthy even.

"Alphys!" Sans called with a smile, dropping any apprehension he may have picked up, "Fancy seeing you here! Come on over! We were just doing some shopping!"

And just like that, Sans was seated back in his trash-pile throne. He waved at Alphys as she made her way over to where the two Skeletons were.

"Hi, Sans!" Alphys greeted. She seemed to start when she saw the other digging through a nearby pile, "Oh! Hello, Papyrus. It's nice to see you again."

"Hello, Dr. Alphys." Papyrus greeted, "It's . . . nice to see you again too."

Alphys gave a squeak as she covered her face to hide a massive blush, "Oh, n-no! I'm not a d-doctor! I mean not yet . . . I- um . . . maybe someday, but not . . . J-just Alphys is fine."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Alphys giggled at the thought. "Really, it's okay. Honestly, if anyone was going to be the n-next doctor, it would probably be S-sans. He's been here the longest and he works c-closely with the doctor already. N-not to mention, he's got the quickest and m-most resourceful mind out of any of us."

Sans laughed at Alphys' glowing recommendation as he resumed his lounging position over the trash, "Oh, stop. You flatter me! You honestly think I have the motivation to be the next doctor? That's the funniest joke I've heard in a _long_ time!" Sans sobered as his eyes tracked nothing in particular up toward the incredibly-high rock ceilings. He even hummed as he thought it over, "How about we just let Gaster have his run first. From what I can see, he's still got a lot to get through before he's ready throw in the towel. After that . . . " Sans shrugged, "Well, we'll just have to see!"

Alphys nodded to herself and gave a bit of a shrug that neither of the preoccupied Skeletons noticed, "I g-guess we will. Oh, wait, Papyrus . . . ? What's the matter?"

Once again, Sans refocused his eyes and sat up to train them on Papyrus. Was there something bothering him? At once, Sans' attention was glued to the other Skeleton as he frowned downward toward the bright red cloth in his hand.

"What's wrong, bud?" Sans asked, a layer of real concern covering his words. Papyrus did seem a bit distracted.

"Brother? Did you . . . Are you really going to be the next Doctor?"

The tone in Papyrus' voice was surprisingly quiet and it was obvious that he felt deeply about the situation. From what Sans was able to deduce about Papyrus so far in these early stages, he doubted that Papyrus would have been able to fully explain _why_ he felt that way, but there was no denying that the feeling ran deep and genuine. Not only that, but there was sound reasoning behind the question.

Sans thought it over for a moment. "You know, I never really thought that far ahead. I dunno though, I don't really see myself as a doctor, you know? I never really had that kind of ' _patients'._ "

Papyrus cocked his head, the play on words sailing directly over him. Sans' attempt at making him smile was a complete failure. Alphys, on the other hand, gave a quiet chuckle before humming herself back into a more serious tone. She looked down to where she curled and uncurled her toes and made tracks in the trash from her claws. "J-joking aside, you're right, P-papyrus, I d-don't think we'll ever be able to match Dr. Gaster's b-brilliance."

Papyrus' frown deepened. "No," He repeated, "That . . . That is not . . ."

Sans sighed, giving up on the humor route for the moment. Papyrus was still being completely serious, the least he could do was hear him out. "Then what is it, Paps?"

Papyrus hesitated for a moment, still not lifting his face or his eyes to see the other two monsters. He opened his mouth a few times as if he were about to say something, but he would close it again when he was unable to find the correct words. Eventually, he settled on something and he continued in the same somber tone as before.

"I hope you never follow Dr. Gaster. You are . . . too nice to be a doctor. Both you and Miss Alphys are."

That made both Alphys and Sans stall. It wasn't hard to figure out from where Papyrus' sentiments stemmed. Just about all of his prior experience with the doctor had been stressful or fear-filled. Not to mention that just one day before, the doctor had been convinced that the only way to deal with the "abomination" had been to burn him in the core . . . of course that was before Sans had so adamantly stepped in to defend him.

"Papyrus?" Alphys asked slowly, her attention now glued to the Skeleton as he seemed to be struggling with his thoughts, "Do you have a n-negative opinion of-of all doctors? I- I know that you can't have had a p-positive relationship with D-dr. Gater if he was planning to-to kill you yesterday. But surely you have positive experiences with doctors as well."

Something pulled at Sans in that moment and it nearly made him stand to correct Alphys. Of course, she didn't know the circumstances behind Papyrus . . . _what_ he was and _why_ he was so torn about how he felt about Gaster. As far as she knew, Papyrus was his brother.

And if Sans had anything to say on the matter, it was going to stay that way.

"C'mon, Paps." Sans encouraged, "You've gotta have at least one good memory. Maybe from before . . . ?"

Before what? Before they met, before Gaster introduced them. If he'd said either of those, his newly-found resolve would've been instantly destroyed. Before Alphys? Or just before in general?

Papyrus remained unmoving, continuing to stare downward at the cloth in his hands. There was, however, a slight change.

"Pa-Papyrus," Alphys stammered, "Are you . . . smiling?"

Sans focused again on Papyrus and his movements with renewed attentiveness. After all, it was the first time Sans had ever seen Papyrus smile. He would have to take note of what was causing this phenomenon.

"Did you think of something?"

Papyrus nodded once.

"Wanna tell us about it?"

Papyrus nodded again, letting the thoughts and the feeling flow. "I was asleep . . . asleep for a very long time, but when I woke up, Dr. Gaster was there. He looked so happy to see me. He laughed and called me a name I did not understand. But it was a good name, not mean at all. And he helped me to stand and walk until I was well enough to do it on my own. It was . . . nice. The nicest I have ever seen him."

"G-Gaster?" Alphys questioned with a bit of incredulity in her voice, "Laughing?"

"Yeah, I know." Sans answered with a bit of a chuckle to his voice, "It's a rare thing, but it does happen every once in a while if you catch him off-guard."

But Alphys' reaction to Gaster laughing wasn't nearly as monumental to Sans as Papyrus' first genuine smile. He had to figure out what caused it and how to replicate the effects. From what he was able to gather, it must have stemmed from the encouragement and the positive reinforcement Gaster had been showing him in those early days of his creation. Sans remembered the very recent past of Papyrus asking for approval of every little item he picked up as he sifted through the trash looking for things to take back with him. Papyrus needed to feel included. He needed to feel well loved. He needed to feel like he was part of something.

That was something Sans could work with. He made a mental note of this.

The majority of the rest of the time at the dump consisted of helping Papyrus find other things he felt he would like. Together, they decided that the large red cloth would be a sheet, something to cover Papyrus while he slept. Until that time, however they decided to use it as a bindle of sorts. They laid the cloth down and continued to pile everything Papyrus decided to keep at its center. They helped Papyrus find other clothes to wear and they discovered that he had a certain draw toward boots. He found two pair that he seemed concerned that if he left, they would not be there if they decided to make a return trip. So, of course, Sans made sure he had them and that he wouldn't let the group leave them behind.

During this field trip, the Skeletons noticed Alphys doing everything she could to be helpful. A part of Sans found this curious. Surely she had other things to do with her time than help them dig through the trash. One or two times, however he did notice her slip little mechanical devices or discs into the backpack she'd brought with her.

When he asked her about it, Alphys had kinda shrugged and giggled nervously.

"O-oh, about that." She began, "Actually, I was thinking- that maybe I would . . . I was going to- to go to the lab to-to uh . . . to see you, actually. To see you and Papyrus. You see, I've got some things I think Papyrus would enjoy and . . . well, yeah. I was just going to look for a few spare parts while I was out. And-and, here you are . . . so . . . uh. Saves me the trip."

Papyrus' attention shifted in that moment and he turned to look over his shoulder at Alphys. It was then he noticed the bag of items on her back, stuffed full of things as if she were filling in for Santa on his day off, except these things were both worn and rusty and worn and frayed. So, maybe she was more like Santa the day _after_ Giftmas when he would collect the old things to make new presents for the next year.

"You brought presents?" Sans inquired, "And they're for Paps. But you only just met the guy yesterday!"

"Well-yes, but I remembered these th-things I had at home and I was instantly reminded of him. I thought he m-may get a better use out of them than I can. They've j-just been sitting at home for a while. S-so, yes, you can add this to your pile." She ducked down to a kneeling position to dig through the items in her backpack. She pulled out several thinly bound books, a few disks in fractured packages, and a small green and yellow box full of multi colored pencils.

"Woah, Alphys! That's a whole lot for one dude! Do you think he can really use all of these things?"

". . . well . . . Yes!" Alphys insisted, "I – f-figured if you're busy with projects all day, this will g-give him something to-to occupy his time!"

Papyrus, with his attention glued to the pile of activities, began forward to close the gap between Alphys and himself, taking each and every item in with wonder and awe.

"Oh, wowie . . ." He gaped, breathing the exclamation as a slow realization as he took one of the thinly bound books in his hand, turning over in his hands, "So many puzzles . . . and all of this is for me!?"

"Why, yes, P-papyrus." Alphys laughed, "I-I hope you like them."

Papyrus opened the book and flipped through the pages, "Wowie . . ." He repeated quietly as a broad smile pulled at his features, "Thank you, Miss Alphys! Thank you so much!"

At the exclamation, Alphys' smile spread as well. "You're welcome, Papyrus!"

Sans let out a laugh of his own through his surprise. "Oh, would you look at that!" He grinned, more to himself than to either of the others. "I guess you really have a thing for puzzles, don't'cha, Paps? I'll have to keep that in mind." Sans looked through the pile as well, reading over the titles of the books and the disc cases. Something caught his eye as he placed the Sudoku book and the coloring book aside: a few discs had cases that stood out to him.

"Woah! Alphys! How long have you had these!?" Sans turned the discs over, admiring the packaging and reading the titles, "'The Nightmare Before Christmas' . . . 'He-man and the Masters of the Universe' . . . Haha! This one's a little odd. 'The Iron Giant'?"

"Th-those all have s-such great stories I thought Papyrus w-would enjoy! S-stories of curiosity, d-discovery, friendship, t-teamwork and a-acceptance!" Alphys smiled as well as she adjusted her glasses, "I d-didn't know you knew of them, Sans! Th-that _is_ exciting! S-so you'll know which one to start him off on first!"

Sans' laughter became a little nervous as he looked down. "Yeah, well. This junk . . . it's . . . it's all a good watch. I mean, plus, it's funny to see how the humans depict Skeletons. I guess that's kinda why you chose these, right?"

"In part." Alphys nodded, but her eyes hadn't left Sans since he picked up the discs, "That last one, though, 'Iron Giant' is a great story about a boy who happens upon an alien machine who was designed for war. Everyone is convinced that the machine is a "monster"-in the human sense of the word of course- a killer- an . . . abomination . . . and the government comes and tries to kill him. But the boy is convinced that the machine is friendly and that he could be this great hero. The machine, though, doesn't remember who he is or what he was designed to do, so be becomes friends with the boy and learns everything he can about what makes the Earth so great! In the end, the boy and the machine end up teaming up and saving the world, but I suppose that's kind of a spoiler. The point is, it reminded me of- well- both you and Papyrus."

"And why would it do that?" Sans sighed. He could feel Alphys trying to "subtly" pry for more details about him and his relationship with Papyrus. And really, Sans couldn't blame her. After all, Papyrus was very interesting and he did just kinda show up out of nowhere, but why couldn't she just leave well enough alone? "Doesn't sound like us at all."

"Oh, well . . . I just thought . . . I figured . . ."

"Hey, Alphys," Sans pressured, his tone dropping a few notches, "You keep staring like that and your eyes might fall out."

"O-oh, right. Of course, I'm-I'm sorry." And just like that, Alphys was defused, for now. Sans made another note to himself to take extra care around Alphys if she was going to be studying him and Papyrus.

"Anyway," Sans shrugged, placing the discs back down and shoving his hands in his pockets with a shrug, "Thanks again, Al. I'm sure Papyrus will get a real kick out of this stuff! But, sorry to burst your bubble an' all, but I don't see how we're gonna be able to take all of this. You see, I don't have a DVD player . . . or a T.V."

"Oh, don't you worry about that!" Alphys grinned, "I'm sure I can whip something up for you! There are plenty of parts down here. Consider it another gift for you and your brother!"

"Ah, gee, Alphys." Sans began again, "You know, you really don't have to."

"Oh, it'll be no problem! And b-besides, I would love to-to know your thoughts on 'The Iron Giant'. Or how Papyrus likes S-skeletor!"

Sans shot a look over his shoulder to check on Papyrus and see what he was up to. He found the other Skeleton sitting near his pile of things playing with the action figure and inspecting it, moving all of the pieces to see how they functioned. He seemed content with what he'd found that day and it didn't look as if he was interested in finding anything else to take back with him.

"I'll tell you what, Alphys." Sans smiled, "You set us up with a system that can play all of this, and we'll have a marathon. That way, you can see for yourself. How about that?"

Alphys seemed to light up at the idea and she raised her hands to clasp tightly in front of her. "Challenge accepted!" She cheered, "Oooh! And I've already got some awesome ideas for a home entertainment system that utilizes a universal remote control device that will allow you to configure the desired lighting, volume for surround sound, popcorn and snack dispensers, temperature, humidity, for the truly authentic experience! When I'm done, you'll feel like you're PART of the movie!"

"Woah! Woah, slow down there, Al!" Sans chuckled, attempting to calm the lizard's spark just a bit, "How about we just focus on 'play' first. Maybe 'stop'. You know, so we can actually _watch_ the movie? Besides, I don't think my room is big enough for all that."

"O-oh, yes." Alphys stammered, coming back to her senses, "A-and I doubt Gaster would l-let me build a theatre in the-in the lab . . ." She shrugged. "F-fine. We'll start with a screen and a p-playback device and we'll s-see from there."

"Sounds good to me." And Sans winked as he turned back to his brother, "Heya, Paps. You feel about ready to head back? Looks like you're slowin' down there."

Papyrus looked up from the figure, which he'd been making fly around by use of rocket boosters in his boots. Man, he really did act like a kid sometimes, but Sans, supposed that was part of Papyrus' charm.

"Yes, brother!" Papyrus cheered as he replaced the figure in the pile and tied the bindle closed. Knowing that he would have to carry all of these things with him, Papyrus left enough slack to tie the cloth around his shoulders as well so he could carry it all like Alphys' backpack. Once he was situated and stable, he looked back up to the others with a nod, "I'm ready!"

"Wow. Gotta hand it to you. You sure are eager."

"Well, that's d-definitely an admirable trait." Alphys added, grabbing her own backpack and moving over to the wooden platform in the center of the dump. "Well, you g-guys enjoy the rest of your d-day off. I'm gonna . . . well . . . I'll be here."

Sans stopped with a moment of hesitation. Woah, what happened to the enthusiasm and zeal from just a few minutes ago? It was as if all life had been suddenly drained from her. She seemed . . . distracted.

"Hey, Alphys?" Sans started with a bit of concern for his friend. "You okay there? You know, you could come with us if you wanted. I mean, we won't be doing anything terribly interesting. Probably just sorting out Papyrus' things . . . but yeah. If you wanted . . ."

"It's okay, Sans." Alphys answered in a small voice. "Don't worry about me. I'll just be here collecting parts. I'll s-see you guys for the marathon, okay?"

Sans sighed again with a shrug, "Alright then. Suit yourself. We'll see you around. C'mon, bro. Let's go home. Alphys is gonna stay for a while."

"Alright, brother." Papyrus agreed, readjusting his bindle over his shoulders as he kept step alongside Sans. The only time he fell slightly behind was when he turned back toward the lizard woman.

"Thank you again, Miss Alphys!" He called before turning back to catch up.

Alphys gave Papyrus a small smile as he turned, leaving her to continue what she came to do.

From there, Sans and Papyrus left the dump relatively quietly, deciding that the best way back to Hotland with all of the stuff they collected was probably to employ the services of the Riverperson.

It was on their way down toward where the Riverperson usually had their boat docked that they heard the frustrated undertones of a woman.

"Ngaahh!" She growled, "There's just no beating that Fluff-butt! Especially with this cheap, rundown, equipment! I'm supposed to be training for the Royal Guard! I can't possibly get in with junk like this! Gah! That's it! I need a new sword!"

The woman looked to be lost in her own world, muttering to herself as she made her way toward the dump. She didn't even realize there were other people around until she almost literally ran into Papyrus.

"Hey! Watch where you're going, punk! Can't you see that I'm . . . Woah! No way!"

Papyrus' expression widened in surprise as he looked back at the woman. She seemed pretty worn and beat up honestly, with bandages and wraps tied around her arms and bruises showing just beneath her blue scales. Her bright red hair was pulled back so it wouldn't fall into her bright yellow eyes . . . or rather . . . eye. The other was hidden under a patch.

That eye, however, seemed incredibly round and large as she looked toward Papyrus. Her mouth has even fallen open as if she'd forgotten how to use it.

"Oh!" Papyrus gasped taking a step backward as not to stay in the woman's way, "I'm sorry."

"No, Paps." Sans interjected stepping forward to protect Papyrus. "You don't have to apologize to her. Obviously, _she's_ the one who needs to watch where she's going! C'mon, lady. You owe my brother an apology!"

Even as he said it, there was a short pause as something flashed within Sans' resolve and for a short second, Sans seemed to skip a beat before his expression became intense once again.

No one seemed to notice.

The woman straightened up after a moment or two as she focused on the voices. "Pshh, yeah right! You tell your "brother" to be aware of his surroundings even if other people aren't! He needs lightning-fast reflexes if he's going to survive!"

"Oh yeah, _mom_!" Sans bit back, "Thanks for the life lesson. I'll be sure to pass it along. C'mon, bro. Let's go home."

"Oh . . . oh, okay." Papyrus nodded as he side-stepped the aggressive fish woman to join Sans again.

As he passed, a webbed hand gripped tightly at his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey," She said solidly and in a different and more subdued tone than before. This was just for his ears . . . or lack thereof. "Hey, kid. I know your face. You're the doc's kid, right? There aren't many Skeletons around, so there aren't many faces to be confused by. But, hey, there's no way you can be the same guy anyway, right? So . . . I just need to know. Have we met before? Do you know my name?"

Even the way Papyrus pulled on his arm to get away seemed to spark some recognition in the woman and a wide grin seemed to spread.

"Woah! You even fight like him- like ol' Puffball! Tell me! Tell me how that's possible! You _died_! How are you here when I watched them all those years ago with your dust! Corbel, tell me you recognize me!"

Through all of this, Papyrus kept pulling on his arm, becoming more and more tense and more and more fearful of the person holding tightly to his arm. Nothing she said made any sense. And she seemed to be expecting an answer that he knew he didn't have.

To add to this, Sans was steadily getting further away and at this rate, Papyrus would be left behind! He didn't want to be left behind- especially not with this strange fish lady who didn't even know his name.

"B-brother!" Papyrus called, successfully gaining Sans' attention once again.

Sans snapped his eyes back to Papyrus' call and when he saw the grip on his arm, his expression fell into something cold and dark. Okay, this had gone far enough.

"Hey, buddy. Let my brother go! Let him go right now or else—"

"Or else, what?" The woman sneered, turning her attention to Sans once again, "Pshh! What are you gonna do, Mr. 5 HP."

Sans huffed, his eyes focused and his anger boiling already toward the surface. In that short amount of time, she had been able to CHECK him and he didn't even _notice_? Who the heck was this lady anyway!?

"Fuhuhuhu!" She chuckled releasing the arm, "I can see this was a waste of time. Wasn't even the right guy."

Immediately, Papyrus pulled away to rejoin Sans. He put as much distance between himself and the woman as he could, taking a spot behind his brother, all the while, he rubbed at his arm, the odd sensation commanding his attention.

"Your brother needs to toughen up if he's gonna make it around here." The woman scoffed from over her shoulder, "If you need it, I can help out with that. The name's Undyne and this _isn't_ the last you've seen of me!"

"Yeah, whatever, lady!" Sans huffed as he led Papyrus away and toward where the Riverperson would be waiting for them.

Undyne watched them as they left. Even when the Puffball-look-alike turned back with an awkward smile toward her, "Bye, Mom!"

Undyne's face contorted into a confused scowl, "What the f—"

* * *

"Finally." Gaster sighed, still escorting the two children who had stayed a good step or two behind him the entire way back to New Home.

Throughout their walk, the human child managed to remain relatively quiet with the exception of their near constant huffing and puffing their dislike in the change in plans. Asriel, on the other hand, seemed more relaxed and even began humming a short little melody as he followed behind Gaster.

When they reached the entryway where Asgore would be meeting them, the three could do little but stand and shift in awkward discomfort. Even though this place was home to Asriel and the human, something about their approach demanded that they stay rooted until Asgore arrived.

In all actuality, they were not left waiting for long. Within five minutes, the large goat monster appeared, emerging from below by means of the staircase. He patted his hands on torn denim shorts and the dirt-smudged shirt didn't suggest the authority of a king.

"Well, howdy, there!" He greeted with a grin, "Please excuse my appearance, I wasn't expecting . . . Dr. Gaster! What brings you here!? It's been so long!"

Gaster hummed. He didn't seem quite as enthusiastic about the reunion as the king, despite that it had been years since they've last seen each other face-to-face. Perhaps because he was still so tired, or that he still had his report looming over him, or that his patience had been worn down to threads.

"Your majesty," Gaster began, ignoring the cheerful tone of the king's voice and continuing with what he came to do, "I found these two sneaking around the lab, and I thought I should deliver them to you rather than having them get lost in there trying to find their way back on their own. Unless, of course they were hoping to get lost in there intentionally."

Gaster shot a look to the floor between himself and the tiny human behind him. After all, it had been the child's idea to go to the lab in the first place. He was confident that if he'd left the children to find their own way back, this human would have taken it as an opportunity or even as a challenge to get as lost as they could, all in the name of adventure and exploration. Even though, he understood the thrill of discovering the secrets of a new place . . . his lab was not the place for that.

"Now, now, children." Asgore reprimanded in his deep voice, though he didn't sound upset or even scolding as he reminded the children. "We talked about this. You are not to go wandering off without permission from either your mom or myself. I know the lab _looks_ interesting, but you could have been seriously hurt if you weren't careful. Aside from that, there are people living there. Would you like it if people walked into your bedroom unannounced?"

Asriel hummed as he thought this over. Eventually, he lowered his head.

"Oh, golly, I didn't even think about it like that. Sorry, Dad."

"Don't apologize to me." The king directed, "It wasn't my home."

"Oh, right!" Asriel turned to the tall Skeleton beside him, giving a tiny bow, "I'm sorry, Dr. Gaster. I didn't mean to intrude on your home. I promise I won't do it again."

To his other side, the human child kinda scoffed and rolled their eyes, muttering something along the lines of "eh, it was a boring let-down anyway" before snapping back into the innocent child routine.

"Yeah!" They said leeching onto Asriel's (actually pretty decent) apology. "Sorry."

That's all they said. And Gaster fought with himself not to scowl at the human in front of the king. That was nowhere _near_ the appropriate kind of repentance that the child should have shown. At least Asriel was humble in his words and in his actions. He knew he'd made a mistake and he showed real remorse.

That human, though . . .

"Splendid!" Asgore cheered, obviously satisfied with the poor show, or probably not picking up on how poor it actually was, "Now that that's taken care of, let's take a look at what you've got there, son! Where did you get that pail? That's not anything your mom got for you is it?"

Asriel laughed as he approached his father, looking incredibly tiny in comparison, "No, it was a birthday present!" He reiterated, "Now I can help you with your gardening!"

"Well let's see what you've got." And Asgore took the pail into his great hands, inspecting it and it's capacity, looking at the faded stickers with a smile and when he turned it upside down to check for cracks or holes, his face went pale . . . or rather . . . well, paler than normal.

Written on the bottom of the pail in black marker were the initials "C.H.G."

Asgore's smile faded as he held the pail in his hands.

"Dad?" Asriel asked, a note of worry in his quiet voice, "Dad, are you okay? Is it not good for gardening?"

When Asgore looked up again, his expression locked with the other adult in the room. He knew what the letters meant and how much the toy meant . . . especially if he still had it.

"Oh, son." Asgore sighed, keeping the plastic container close, "I'm sorry, but this pail—"

"Belongs to him." Gaster interrupted. After all, the prince seemed excited enough about it and who was he to take that away from him? "It's his birthday present from us at the lab. A little early, perhaps. Or perhaps a little late . . . either way, it belongs to him now."

"Dr. Gaster," Asgore questioned, his tone more quiet and concerned than anything Gaster had heard in a long time. He wished he wouldn't talk to him like that. After all, it had been about fifteen years now, "Dr. Gaster, only if you're sure."

Gaster nodded, "I'm sure. It'll be nice to know it's getting good use."

Asgore tilted his head this time in a slight bow, "Thank you."

Asriel, witnessing this, knew something huge must have happened if it caused his father, the king of all monsters, to bow to anyone. The boy turned again to the Doctor and bowed as well- a slight bend at the back with his hands clasped loosely in front of him.

"Thank you, Dr. Gaster!" He chimed.

In spite of himself, Gaster felt a bit of a smile pull gently at one of the corners of his mouth. Watching the young prince, he had to admit he felt better about letting him have Corbel's old pail. It really looked as if Asriel would be able to fully appreciate it and he knew then that it had found a good home.

"You're very welcome." Gaster nodded back.

"Now, children." Asgore started again, handing the pail back to Asriel and patting the top of his head, "Why don't you two go out and play. The doctor and I have a lot of catching up to do.

"Okay!" Asriel cheered as they waved down the human child to follow. "We're working on a surprise! We should probably get started if we want it to be done in time!"

Asgore let out a deep and comforting laugh as he guided the children away. They descended the staircases with smiles and a little laughter.

Once he was sure they were on their way, Asgore turned back to welcome Gaster, properly.

"Dr. Gaster, my friend. It's been far too long. Please tell me you've been well."

"As well as I can, your majesty." Gaster nodded.

"Oh, please. After all this time, we can drop the formalities, can't we? Just call me Asgore."

"Noted." Gaster answered, "Things have been going relatively well in the lab and there have been several advancements about which I would like to report."

"Well, that's all good." Asgore smiled, trying a different approach in his attempt to get the doctor to loosen up. "And that can wait for the paper reports right? I want to know how _you_ are. How have the years been treating you, Wingdings?"

Gaster cocked his head, "Your majesty . . . ? I mean, Asgore . . . what do you mean?"

Asgore's smile became a quiet chuckle, "Surely you have done more than work in the lab these past . . . wow . . . how long has it been since we've last spoken face-to-face? Six? Seven years?"

Gaster thought it over for a minute. Had it really been that long? The last time they'd spoken must've been . . . at the celebration when Asriel was born. Where had all the time gone?

"I suppose it has . . ."

"And how have you been?"

Gaster's expression fell into a contemplative frown. Really, how could he answer that question when he hadn't given any thought to the answer whatsoever in such a long time.

Seeing the hesitation, Asgore let out a deep breath. He was afraid that was the case. Gaster had completely lost himself in his work and hadn't even given thought to his own well-being in who knew how long. Something had to be done. The doctor deserved some time to relax after all, right.

"Never mind that for now." The King distracted, his smile pulling again and becoming fond, "Toriel will be back soon with ingredients for dinner. Why don't you stay? It's been a while since we've had company."

Gaster was visibly taken aback, "Your- uh, Asgore! I couldn't. I don't want to impose! And besides, the queen won't be expecting me. It's okay. I should be getting back anyway."

"Nonsense!" Asgore insisted. "Well, if not for dinner, at least stay for tea."

Again, Gaster had to think this over. He supposed that after 25 years of working for Asgore, he could at least take him up on his almost constant offers of tea.

Gaster nodded slowly with a bit of a smile in place once again. "Actually, tea sounds wonderful."

* * *

 **AN: And Scene!**

 **Thank you again, everyone for sticking with me so far! I've already begun work on the next few chapters, so I hope to have those out for you soon!**

 **In the meantime, please review if you are so inclined. And don't forget to check out "Surpassing Origins on Amazon!**

 **Thanks again and I'll see you for Chapter 9**

 **~Jes**


	11. DETERMINATION

**A.N: Hey everyone! Just so you know, the following has NOT been edited except for a very light spell check. So I apologize for anything that might come across as confusing. You are always welcome to ask if you have any questions. That being said, I also won't take long in this note, but I will say that this is the longest chapter I've written for this series and I will advise you to hang on to something.**

 **You have been given fair warning. I'll see you next chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 9**

 **DETERMINATION**

Sans had turned out the lights to his bedroom several hours ago and was ready to call it a night. After all, even though it had been their day off, they were still pretty busy and it hadn't left much room for rest. They hadn't eaten much and they had worked long hours that day searching for and sorting through the things Papyrus brought back from the dump. Even if it wasn't all completely strenuous work, Sans could feel it draining on the edges of his HP, slowly, but surely.

But, of course, that meant next to nothing to Papyrus. It seemed as if the other Skeleton had been overly stimulated the entire day, which should have worn him out. With each new experience, however, he seemed even more excited.

Even now, in the dark of the room he shared with Sans, his constant stream of questions hadn't stopped. As the two lay together on opposite sides of the same bed, both staring upward toward the ceiling and speaking into the air, Papyrus rattled off question after question about what they'd done and what they'd seen that day. Sans did his best not to let his inability to sleep wear on his nerves too much. After all, It was a good thing that Papyrus was curious. More questions now, meant fewer questions later, right?

But still he needed sleep if he was going to function in the morning.

The good news was that it seemed as if Papyrus was finally starting to slow down. His questions became more spread out as he began to think more on each answer.

Finally, it seemed as if he was just about finished. Several minutes had gone by and there hadn't been another inquiry. Sans, who was now beyond exhausted, could feel his eyes closing as he began to shut down. He even turned to his side to face the wall in a show of abdication. He curled over on himself and let his body and mind relax.

". . . Sans . . . ?" Papyrus asked again.

"Yes, Papyrus?" Sans sighed in response. Maybe he should have feigned sleep, perhaps Papyrus would've fallen asleep as well and the day would have finally been over.

Papyrus was careful and precise with his question. It was definitely something he had put a lot of thought and a lot of effort into organizing.

"That lady earlier? The scary one, Undyne?"

"What about 'er?" Sans breathed. He laughed quietly, "I suppose she was kinda scary, wasn't she?"

Papyrus nodded, though the gesture went unnoticed, "She was. I thought that she was going to be mad at me. She did look like she was in a fight, didn't she?"

"She did. But you don't have to worry about her. If she tried to hurt you, I woulda stopped her. Heh, I told you no one would hurt you on my watch, didn't I?"

"Yes . . ."

Sans sighed at the hesitation in Papyrus' voice, "I know that tone. What's the matter?"

"Something Undyne said."

"Paps, really, you should just stop worrying about—"

"She said she knew me, Sans. She said . . . she said I died."

Sans went quiet for a moment as he listened and thought about those words. "Well, that's a funny thing to say to someone you've never met before. I still wouldn't worry about it, though. She musta had the wrong guy."

"She said she knew Dr. Gaster." Papyrus pushed. It didn't look like this was a conversation that Papyrus was willing to just let go. He had been building to this the entire time and now that he was able to talk openly about it, that was exactly what he was going to do. Sleep be damned.

Again, Sans had to think about the new information. That was definitely a bit strange. When would the crazy fish lady have had the chance to meet Gaster? Sans had been trying for YEARS to get the doctor out of the lab with no luck. Where would she have possibly met him?

"She called me something."

And just like that, Sans' nerves were struck. He frowned as he pulled himself into a sitting position so he could see Papyrus clearly.

"What did she call you, bro? Why didn't you tell me before?"

"No." Papyrus protested in a low voice, "It wasn't a bad word. Just . . . different." He reached across his body to touch the part of his arm Undyne grabbed. He didn't know why, but it was like he was familiar with the touch. "Sans . . . what's a corbel?"

"A what?"

"Something else Undyne said. 'Corbel' . . . what's that? I've heard Dr. Gaster use it before too, so . . . it has to mean _something,_ right?"

Sans thought it over, trying to use the word in a sentence. After a few moments, he reached a conclusion. "Doesn't sound like a 'what' but more of a 'who' to me." Sans went quiet for a while. When he spoke again, it was in a contemplative and methodical tone. Papyrus noticed he was using his Scientist face and his Scientist voice too.

"Tell me, when Dr. Gaster said it to you, what was the context? Do you happen to remember what he was talking _about_ when he said it?"

Papyrus shook his head, "Something in wingdings. Something about wishes. Something about promises . . . and stars. I don't remember any more than that."

Sans hummed, "Well as information goes, that wasn't much. But it was interesting."

"I'm sorry, brother." Papyrus groaned, "I'll try to be more observant next time."

"No, Paps, you did fine. And it is a good start. Don't worry about it anymore tonight. Just try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay." Papyrus answered, but it was obvious by the tone that his mind was still working on overdrive. Sans' was as well.

"I think I want to see her again." Papyrus stated several minutes later with definitive conviction. "Undyne, I mean."

"And why would you want to do that?"

"Well, she looks really strong and really tough. If I could be like that, then you wouldn't have to worry about protecting me. You have less HP than I do, so I should be protecting you instead, right?"

Sans' expression fell as he let himself lie back down and he turned back toward the wall. "Don't worry about protecting me, Papyrus. You just worry about you, okay?"

Papyrus hesitated. Apparently, he'd said something to upset his brother. "Sans . . . ?"

"Hey, Forgeddaboudit, Paps, okay? I'm fine." Sans' Scientist self was gone again and this Sans was . . . Well, Papyrus had no idea what to call this Sans. It was as if there was an invisible and unbreakable force field around him now that he couldn't get through no matter how hard he tried. He hadn't seen this Sans before, but suddenly, he seemed . . . distant.

"Hey, bro." He began again quietly, "If you wanna train with Undyne, you go right ahead. I'm not gonna stop you, but do it because it's what _you_ wanna do. Not because of me."

Papyrus nodded, "Okay."

After that, it actually didn't take long for Papyrus to fall asleep. He was quietly snoring within half an hour. Sans, on the other hand, couldn't find it in him to relax anymore. Part of him wondered if he would be able to get any sleep before work in the morning, or if it would just be easier to stay awake until then.

If that were the case . . . he would need food to help fill his HP where his lack of sleep wouldn't.

But did he really want to get up to look for food? He would also be risking waking Papyrus again. He sighed to himself as he shifted again, pushing Papyrus' leg and his sheet away. It might actually be easier to force himself to sleep. Oh, what a vicious cycle.

It wasn't long afterward that he heard the rumbling sound through the walls. Was that the elevator? Did it just stop on his floor? What the . . . ?

Sans pulled himself off of the foot of the bed as stealthily as possible as not to wake Papyrus. He shuffled into his slippers and threw on something with pockets, his favorite blue jacket.

He slipped out of the room as noiselessly as possible and made his way through the hall in the same manner. Off in the distance, he could hear the steady and familiar footfalls of Dr. Gaster. But why was he on this level? He lived a few floors down.

As Sans approached the corner, he noticed Gaster was carrying with him several bags full of jars and tins and . . . Tupperware?

"Gaster?" Sans called after him.

The doctor turned around at the sound of his name. The slight surprise didn't escape Sans' notice.

"Oh, Sans!" Gaster greeted with a . . . was that a smile? "My apologies. Did I wake you?"

"Oh, no." Sans shrugged, his tone still low in respects to his brother sleeping just down the hall, "I was already awake. Papyrus can be a bit of a handful. We've been running around all day and he only just got to sleep." Sans took notice of the bags and took a few more steps forward, even giving Gaster a playful wink. "What about you? You're getting in pretty late, young man. What have you been up to?"

Gaster gestured for Sans to follow him by means of a jerk of the head. "If you must know, the king and queen invited me to dinner."

"Oh really!? Well, what a coincidence. I ran into their kids earlier!"

"Oh, yes, I am well aware. I caught them snooping around the lab. They must have gotten away from you."

Sans chuckled. "Those sneaky little kids!" He mused, shaking his head, "I showed them out myself."

"Yes, well, I escorted them to New Home and Asgore . . . I mean, the king invited me to stay for tea. Time must have gotten away from us, because before I knew, the queen was inviting me again to stay for dinner. Toriel made enough to feed the whole staff here at the lab, or perhaps two and a half Asgores." Gaster laughed quietly to himself at the thought. "The point being, she insisted that I bring some of the leftovers back with me. At first I refused, but then I thought maybe, if you hadn't eaten . . ."

"How considerate of you, Gaster!" Sans answered, a swirl of different emotions and thoughts began to swim about in his mind. First off, when was the last time he had ever seen Gaster _this_ casual about anything, especially when it came to the king and queen? He was even on a first-name basis with them now? How interesting . . . and strange.

"Well, the moment I mentioned I would be bringing food for someone else as well, Toriel would not allow me to leave without first getting enough food to feed you too, which, of course, means that we will be able to eat for days. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but you do have a cold food storage container on this floor, do you not?"

"Heh, you mean a fridge? Yeah, I think I can find you one of those. Follow me."

Together Sans and Gaster walked the halls, retelling the stories of the day. Mainly, Sans let Gaster speak, taking in the opportunity to listen. Gaster almost never indulged in idle chatter, so any chance there was to just sit back and let him run off, was a welcomed one. Sans enjoyed every second.

Throughout the storytelling, neither one of them mentioned anything having to do with the awkward subject of Corbel- not his pail and its new home or the awkward meeting his friend from so long ago. That conversation could wait for another day.

After helping to stow the leftovers away, Sans helped himself to a little bit of his portion, and even tried a few bites of pie, courtesy of the queen . . . Man, her homemade food was good . . . especially that pie. He noted that the comfort food really did make him feel better at the end of the very long day. But even though his HP was maxed out, he still felt as if he needed at least an hour or two of rest before the morning came.

So with a few parting words, the two split ways to attempt to get that much-needed rest.

Sans went to bed that night content and relaxed . . .

. . . Only to be woken up once again not even an hour later by a clamor that came from a few floors down.

"Damn it, Gaster." Sans groaned, "Don't you ever sleep?"

* * *

"I think we should probably give him a few more minutes."

"Well, the assignments are right over there. We could just grab them and distribute them amongst ourselves. He can trust us with that much, right? We can handle it ourselves."

"Yeah! They're right over there just waiting for us. He probably put them there on purpose. He knows we can handle ourselves."

"B-but maybe there are some s-special instructions that he d-didn't have a chance to include in the assignments. It would be a shame if we got through the assignments only to-to find that we were doing them wrong the entire time. I-I say we wait for him."

"And what does the teacher's pet think about all this? Well, c'mon star student, enlighten us! You're in tight with the doctor, right? Did he give you any 'special instructions' to pass along to the rest of us?"

There was no response. Sans was standing some distance away, leaning against the wall with his foot propped up, his arms crossed over his chest, and his head lowered. His eyes were closed as well as he finally found enough serenity to rest them. Over the past few weeks of caring for Papyrus by day and struggling to sleep through the clattering of Gaster's late-night projects by night, on top of all of the work and projects he had taken on, Sans was feeling a little worn out and sluggish.

"Well, Mr. Right-hand-man? Anything?"

Still no response.

"SERIF!"

The Skeleton opened his eyes and lifted his head as if he had been alert and aware the entire time, even as an unceremonious and oddly musical yawn escaped his mouth. He hadn't quite realized that all eyes were on him. Wait, why were they all looking at him? Was he snoring? Heh, how embarrassing.

"Hm . . . We're all still here?" He asked quietly, more to himself than to the others. "Gaster's a no-show again? Seems he's starting to make a habit of that . . . hmmm . . . "

"Look who's finally caught up with current events."

Sans hummed, "' _Current'_ events, huh? I _'sea'._ Well, it could just be that Dr. Gaster's a bit _'tide'_ up at the moment. Ever think of that? He's been really busy lately, _drowning'_ in workloads I couldn't even ' _fathom'_ , so maybe he finally _'crashed'_. But, hey, sinceyou have trouble _'wading'_ , I suppose you could just _'tuna'_ round and get the _'shell'_ outta here _._ We'll be _'shore'_ to be pleasant and _'wave'_ on your way out. But don't _'bank'_ on having work when you _'drift'_ back this way."

There were staggered responses to Sans' onslaught- a few groans, a few snickers, a low "ooooh" and a full-out laugh.

"You know, for a string of ocean-based puns, those seemed to really burn!"

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Sans. That was very _'nautical'_ of you!"

"Though, h-he might have been _'f-f-fishing'_ for a few of them!" Alphys joined in.

The other assistants continued to laugh and create puns among themselves, leaving Sans with a sense of accomplishment, even as the one assistant, who had been the butt of the joking, approached with narrowed eyes and an unmoving scowl.

"How dare you use my _job_ as leverage over me!? Even you don't have that kind of authority, Pet! And I don't appreciate you threatening me like that." The taller monster growled, nearly pinning Sans against the wall with his long limbs.

"Really?" Sans continued in the same humming contemplation as before. "Personally, I don't like being threatened at all, but, hey. To each his own." Sans shrugged as he shoved his hands in his pockets, "Okay then, how would you like for me to threaten you?"

The taller of the two glared, his dark eyes piercing directly into Sans as if trying to shoot holes into him or melt him with the sheer intensity of the stare.

The Skeleton remained unmoved, his smug expression, unaltered.

"Listen up," The tall monster hissed, lowering his voice to just above a harsh whisper. "And pay attention, because I'm only going to tell you this once, you little . . ."

Somewhere near the far end of the atrium came the sound of an approaching someone. Right away, the assistants sobered, ready to begin the day.

"Heh," Sans smirked, his voice dropping to a matching whisper, "You might wanna hold off on that. Here comes the Boss-man."

"Well, it is nice to see everyone is in such high spirits." Came the low tones of an exhausted Gaster who was at the end of his reserve. "Good morning everyone. My apologies for the delay. I'll not make excuses, but instead get right to the distribution of the new projects. Without any further ado, let's get today's assignments started. Step forward to receive your folders."

As the team stepped up to get their new assignments, the tall, almost cat-like monster leaned in over Sans, trying to use his height to intimidate him.

"You'd better watch yourself."

"Maybe you should follow your own advice, bucko." Sans shot back, not intimidated in the slightest.

"This isn't over." The other iterated, "Not in the slightest."

Sans smirked in response, "Oh, I hope not. Anytime, just bring it."

The two parted and took their places at the end of the line, ceasing all argument and all conversation in general as they waited to receive their assignments.

Of course when it got to the final two, Gaster waited until after the other assistants had gotten their projects and vacated the atrium before he continued.

"Good morning, Gentlemen." He greeted, lowering the two remaining folders to his side. "I trust you are both well."

"Uh, y-yes sir." The first monster answered hesitantly, his back straightening as he stood even taller.

Sans gave a bit of a shrug. "Eh, I could've used another hour or two, but otherwise, okay."

"Yes, good to hear." Gaster continued as if he hadn't heard the responses. He didn't need to. They were not the subject of conversation, nor were they pertinent to anything else. "Now, let me get one thing perfectly clear." He continued sternly, "Under no circumstance are you to engage in any activity that is hostile in nature. If there is any animosity between _any_ monsters on MY team it _will_ be handled in a professional manner and environment. Do you understand me?"

"Perfectly, sir."

Sans nodded.

"Excellent. Now, if there is anything either of you would like to get off of your chest, now is the time. Take this opportunity to resolve any issues the two of you may have."

The three stood in complete silence for several minutes and every moment that passed weighed more and more on Gaster's already fried nerves.

"Then I will assume all is well and that there will be no further conflict. Are we clear?"

Sans was the first to answer with a nod and a brighter-than-expected, "Sure thing." He really had no beef with the other, but he would be damned if he didn't stand up when he was backed into a corner. "Yeah, we're all cool here, right, bud?"

The tall monster nodded, "Frosty."

"Wonderful. Now, here are your assignments. Sans, you're with me."

Both monsters received their folders and looked them over. The cat-like monster also seized the opportunity to take his leave, but the harsh glare back at Sans was a little more noticeable than he would have liked.

Once he was out of sight and out of earshot, Sans released the breath he'd been saving and let himself deflate once again, shoving his hands in his pockets once more.

"That Gaine . . ." Gaster sighed, "I want you to keep an eye on him, Sans. Apparently, this isn't the first time he's been the cause of tension among the monsters of this team."

"Gotcha," Sans replied, "He seems to enjoy causing a stir."

"If it keeps up, I'm afraid he may have to be dealt with. That aside, I would like for you to take over the project distribution on days like today when I'm running a bit late. The projects are assigned according to each monster's strength. For example, I usually assign Alphys to inspections, maintenance, and repairs since she excels at engineering and mechanics. In times that call for it, she is also a valuable asset in assembly and installation.

"Maltez and Baelin, work very well together and they are both rather small monsters, so I will often pair them. Where one may be extremely observant, the other is very delicate so they do best with detail work.

"Ruddard, on the other hand, is extremely focused when it comes to his work and he is much more the type to work better solo. I give him the projects it would take other monsters weeks to do alone and he'll have it done in the span of one at the most. This means, however that he can only be assigned one or two tasks at a time.

"And Gaine . . . well, he's meticulous and precise. He's best in jobs that require his keen eye and knack for accuracy. All of this is to say that I will do my best to have the assignments organized and ready for the next day so all you would have to do is hand them out in the mornings, but on the off chance they are not. I'll trust you to distribute them accordingly."

Sans nodded again slowly, still trying to wake himself. It was taking a lot more energy than he would have expected and it wasn't working. He managed to catch most of what Gaster was talking about, but he was still struggling to focus. He'll have to ask him to write it all down for him later.

"Long night?" Gaster observed.

"Long month . . ." Sans responded rolling his head and stretching out his neck, "I could ask you the same thing, slow poke. What are you working on that keeps you up for three days straight? How are you even _functioning_ right now?"

Gaster let out another breath, leading the way toward where their next assignment was waiting for them. "Believe me, Sans. If I could tell you, I would. As of right now, I'm afraid, those projects are classified, but once they are completed, you and every other monster will be much better off."

"Close to breaking the barrier then? Well, that's exciting."

"Yes, your lack of enthusiasm says it all."

Sans fought off another yawn, covering his face momentarily behind his binder. "Eh, sorry about that. Give me a few more hours then tell me the good news again."

"Yes." Gaster mused, "Well, when the projects are complete, trust me. You will be the first to know."

* * *

When Sans returned to his room, he felt as if he was ready to collapse and sleep for a few days. But of course, Papyrus was in the exact opposite mind frame. He had been in and out of the room all day, looking forward to and counting down the minutes until Sans would return so that maybe they could perhaps go somewhere or do something together. It seemed he had plenty of energy to burn.

"Sans!" He cheered as his brother entered the room. He gave a bit of a wave and a bright smile as he called, "Welcome back! You have no idea how . . . you . . . you look terrible. Are you feeling alright, brother?"

"Wha- me?" Sans questioned wiping at his face as he'd been doing all day to try to stay awake, "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. It's just been a long day, that's all. What've you been up to?"

"Oh!" Papyrus answered somewhere between excitement for sharing his adventures with Sans and concern for the other, "Well, I've been working on those puzzle books Miss Alphys gave me! There are quite a few interesting things in there! Mazes, word jumbles, spot-the-differences, word searches! All kinds of puzzles! See, I've finished this one all the way through!"

Papyrus handed Sans one of the thin books and right away, Sans could tell that Papyrus had, indeed, been hard at work at completing it. Every page looked as if it had been folded at some point and pressed open as he had been working on it. There were different colors on each page where he had been working on the puzzle written there and even a few sections where he seemed to have gotten bored with whatever was happening on the page and just started drawing in the margins.

One of the most interesting discoveries, however, was Papyrus' organizing strategy. As Sans looked through the book, he noticed that Papyrus had designated different colors for different puzzles. Word searches were in blue, jumbles were in green, crosswords were in red and so on. And even on the corners of the pages, he scribbled the corresponding color so that he could turn the book directly to whichever type of puzzle he felt like doing at the time. Sans found this more interesting than the completion of the book . . . though, that feat on its own was admittedly impressive as well.

"Well done, Paps!" Sans commended, continuing to look through the pages. He did note a few mistakes here and there, especially on the crosswords . . . was that page filled completely with the letter "z"? Sans chuckled to himself at that. Why on Earth would he do something like that? "One of these days, we'll have to do one of these together."

"Really?!" Papyrus' eyes went wide as he grinned at Sans.

"Of course! Maybe this weekend if nothing comes up." Sans responded handing back the book and heading back to the corner of the room to get the paperwork for the day filled and filed. He had recently acquired a desk so he would have a place to do this. Though this meant that with the bed and the desk, plus his stuff, plus all the stuff they'd picked up for Papyrus, there wasn't much room for anything else in the tiny room. He reminded himself again to ask Gaster about that . . . and maybe finally asking for a room for Papyrus as well.

But back to the subject of the desk: during the day, while Sans was at work, Papyrus would often use it to complete his puzzles, calling them his daily assignment, much like the ones Sans would receive. He even had his own drawer in which to keep the books and supplies. At night, he knew he would have to give the spot up so that Sans would be able to get his real work done. During this time, Papyrus would wander the halls as not to bother his brother, or he would occupy a section of the bed where he could continue work on the puzzle book.

As Papyrus used this particular evening to draw and color in one of the other books, he took notice that Sans had been incredibly busy lately: leaving before he would wake up, returning late in the evening, and using the rest of the night to fill in paperwork. On most nights, he wouldn't even go to sleep until after Papyrus had already gone and had been asleep for several hours. He would get two or three hours of sleep himself before having to get up and start again.

On top of this, it seemed as if Dr. Gaster had been giving Sans more responsibility around the lab, leaving him to conduct the more top-priority assignments alone while he would work more directly with the super secret projects. Essentially, Sans had taken over for the doctor as far as lab work was concerned. Even without the official title, Sans was heading and managing the place while still playing the apprentice role as well.

By the end of the week, Sans was exhausted and it seemed as if he had no time to spend with Papyrus, which left the younger of the two brothers slightly dejected. Though he would try to fill his time with puzzles and games, Papyrus was going a little stir crazy. He needed the interaction and he needed more than just this room- more than just this lab.

But it was something Sans just wasn't able to give him yet.

Even now, it seemed as if the rest of the world just kind of disappeared as he continued to work on the papers . . . and it looked like he had a pretty big pile of them today too, which meant he would be working for a long time. Once he was finished with them, he would finally set them aside and give the reports to Gaster in the morning so he could chronicle them and compile them in a report for the king. Then MAYBE he might be able to get some sleep. It was an important responsibility, but it ate away any time he had to spend with his brother.

After a while of staring, Sans dropped his pen and let out a sigh. He hadn't even put a dent in the paper work, but something distracted him from continuing.

"I can feel you staring into my back, Paps." He commented, "And I can't hear your paper or your colored pencils. What's wrong?"

Again, Papyrus' eyes went wide, but this time it was in the shock of being caught staring. "Sorry."

"Don't apologize." Sans reiterated, turning his chair around to speak directly with the other Skeleton. "If there's something wrong, it's your job to speak up, okay? No matter what, I'll listen, alright?"

"Alright," Papyrus nodded.

"So what's bothering you, bro?"

"Oh, nothing really . . . it's just . . . Do you think that maybe Dr. Gaster will give you a day off again? Like that day we went to the dump. That was fun. I want to do something like that again, or maybe go somewhere else! But you're always busy and you haven't been able to go with me, and you haven't been sleeping and you're always too tired to do anything but work, and—"

"Heh, yeah." Sans sighed, lowering his head to sink between his shoulders. "I'm starting to get what you mean. You do bring up a few pretty good points too. I've been starting to see a difference at work too . . . maybe it _is_ time for a little quality time. I don't think I'd be able to get away for more than a day, but I'll tell you what. How about I ask Gaster about it tomorrow and then we'll see about taking a day to go out and have some fun! I've got a few things I wanna show you anyway. We'll make a day of it!"

"You mean it?" Papyrus gasped, "Will he let you do that?"

"Well that's what days off are for! And since I've been working through the weekends lately, I think I can build a pretty strong case for myself. If all goes well, I could work this to have maybe _three_ days off!"

"Three whole days!? Imagine all of the things you could do with three days?"

"Heh, I'd probably sleep." Sans laughed, though it came with a hint of truth to it, "But it would definitely give me time to work on a puzzle or two with you! Maybe we could visit Alphys and watch one of those movies."

"That sounds like a lot of fun!" Papyrus grinned, "I hope Dr. Gaster says yes."

"Heh, you and me both, bro." Sans sighed as he prepared to get back to work. Before he could, however, another thought crossed his mind, "You know, Paps. You don't have to wait for me to go do things. If you wanna go out and mingle, you can just go do it. You don't need me to go with you."

Papyrus hesitated for a second as he thought this over. "Oh . . . well, I've never been out of the lab without you before. It would be weird. I don't think that I could . . ."

"Of course you can, Papyrus!" Sans encouraged, leaning forward again, "Anything you can do out in the underground with me, you can do without me. Go out and make lots of friends!"

"I can't talk to you without you there. So that's false. And you know your way around more than I do. What if I get lost? What if I can't find my way back and I never see you again!"

"Shh, Papyrus." Sans smiled, his expression and his voice carrying what he hoped was comfort, "I believe in you, Paps. You won't get lost. And if you do, I know it won't be for long. Look, I've seen you in tons of scenarios and mazes and simulations here at the lab and you always managed to pull through . . . or almost always. The Underground is no different. Think of it like one giant puzzle. One big maze and it's your objective to navigate through and make note of all the things that are different or things that you find interesting. You can use those things to help you retrace your steps and remember your way home." Sans thought it over for a second, hoping that what he said was the right thing. From the renewed vigor in Papyrus' eyes, he guessed that it was.

"In fact," Sans began again, a bit of his smile in place once again, "How about we make it your assignment? You're an observant guy. I know you can do it. What I want you to do is make a map of the underground. Use your pencils and I'll get you some blank paper. I want you to start from the lab and make note of every turn you make. You should label every place you think is important or interesting. By the time you're finished, you'll be able to find your way around with no problem at all! Now, this will take you more than one day, so your challenge is to find a different way home every day until there are no other options. That's when your map will be complete. Wha'd'ya say, bro? You up to the challenge?"

Papyrus looked between Sans and his book and to the red-orange pencil in his hand.

"That sounds like a lot. Do you really think I can do something like that?"

"I know you can, Paps!" Sans nodded with a wink.

And just like that, Papyrus' smile returned. He gathered his pencils in his hand and held them tightly in his grasp. He nodded enthusiastically.

"Then I accept your challenge, brother! I won't let you down!"

"There you go! Just make sure you save some of that enthusiasm for tomorrow, because that's when you'll get started! Don't worry, bro, you'll do great!"

The rest of the night went smoothly. Excited and motivated for the next day, Papyrus busied himself with making plans and making sure his pencils were sharpened. He even layed out an outfit to wear. One of his thinner orange sweaters with khaki shorts and one of the pairs of boots he'd brought home. He folded them neatly and set them aside for use the next day.

Sans continued work on the papers. Knowing that Papyrus was busy and motivated actually helped him stay focused on his tasks as well. It was a strange sensation, like the two were feeding off the other's enthusiasm. Well, whatever it was, it was the most driven and alert he'd felt all day and he welcomed the extra kick it brought that helped him in his work.

It still took forever to complete, but eventually, he was finally able to call it a night. As Sans pushed the stack of papers to the opposite side of the desk, he realized just how hungry he was. He hadn't eaten that day and it had taken him this long to remember. The problem was that it was far too late to get food from anywhere and there were no more leftovers from that day Gaster had come back from New Home. And though monster food doesn't spoil, it still would have felt strange to Sans to eat something that had been in the fridge for three and a half weeks . . . though he did wish he'd saved a little bit more of that pie.

Anyway, food aside, he should probably get some rest before the morning. Something told him that he would have to be the one to distribute the assignment folders, so he would have to get up earlier than usual if he wanted to get food then and organize the assignments before the other monsters showed up. Plus, he would have to make sure Papyrus was settled and on his way, preferably before the others showed up as well. They still had no idea that Papyrus was active again and after the fiasco from the last time they saw him . . . it would probably be best if he avoided contact with them.

And suddenly, just thinking about the workload and challenges the following day would bring, Sans was tired again. As he climbed into bed next to Papyrus, he turned to his side to face the wall and curled in on himself as he let his eyes drift closed. It was a quick process falling asleep and within minutes, Sans' quiet snoring joined Papyrus'. Finally, the day was finished and the two could find rest. The room was quiet and dark and any movement was only as the result of one or the other shifting to a more comfortable position.

It was a calm scene for all of maybe 45 minutes. Somewhere, several floors below, was a rumbling- quiet at first. It was so quiet that neither of the sleeping Skeleton brothers took notice of it. But within moments, that rumbling turned into a shaky clatter and little by little, the floors began to shake until it became a violent quake that startled the two awake.

At once, Papyrus was up, looking around for whatever it was that could be causing the quake. He turned on the lamp in the corner of the room to see more clearly.

Sans woke with his eyes instantly glowing, ready to fight off anything or anyone that threatened him or Papyrus. It took him a moment or two to realize it wasn't an enemy, but when he made that distinction, the glow faded.

"What the Hell!?" He exclaimed, throwing on his coat, "Oh, God, it's not the CORE, is it!? We don't have time to evacuate everyone if it is!"

"It's not the CORE." Papyrus answered with an almost unnatural calm about him.

"What? How do you know?"

"The shaking." He answered, planting both feet flat on the ground. There was a slight bend to his knees as he focused, "It's stronger near the center of the room. It's coming from inside the building. Almost directly below us."

Even as he explained, the rumbling began to quiet and the shaking stilled until it was quiet again. Sans and Papyrus stood still in anticipation as they waited for a sign that it could be over. After several moments, Sans let out a breath and a nervous chuckle.

"Eh-heh, talk about a shaky situa—"

 _ **BOOM!**_

There was a near deafening explosion that rattled the entire room and knocked both Sans and Papyrus to their knees. The desk was jerked from the wall and their lamp was knocked off balance, crashing to the floor, shattering the bulb and throwing the room into darkness once again.

In place of the lamp, the blinking of a bright red warning light flashed on and off, giving them enough light to see and be able to pull themselves up to their feet. The wailing siren was not far behind.

Right away, Sans was in evacuation mode. Any joke he had been planning to make was forgotten and the only thing that mattered was getting out of the lab safely before something else exploded. "Alright, Paps, we gotta get out of here! Get your shoes, but don't bother with anything else. We're leaving until we can figure out what's going on.

Papyrus hesitated. The shaking had stopped once again and it didn't feel as if the building was in danger of collapse. It was still just as sturdy as ever. But Sans was worried. To put his mind at ease. Papyrus put on his boots.

"Brother?"

"What is it, Papyrus? Are you ready?"

"Yes, but brother. That explosion. It came from beneath us just like the shaking. Do you think—"

"Gaster." Sans finished, thinking between his evacuation plan and going back for the doctor. Though he knew what he was _supposed_ to do, something inside of him wouldn't let him leave the doctor behind.

"Alright, Paps. You get out of here. I'm gonna go below to get the doc."

Papyrus shook his head defiantly, "I can help." He explained, already heading for the door. "And there's no more shaking. I don't think there will be any more explosions either."

"But you can't know that for sure!" Sans pressed. "It would make me feel better if I knew you were outside!"

But Papyrus was already out of the room and on his way toward the stairs that would take him down toward the explosion and the source of the shaking.

"Damn it." Sans hissed as he followed out of the room as well. Since Papyrus was so determined to help . . . and technically his strength was greater than his own, Sans decided that it was probably better to have Papyrus around. He would just have to be sure to keep an eye out for him as well while they were down there.

They took the stairs down and all the while Sans let Papyrus lead the way. He seemed to know where he was going and where the source of the shaking and explosion had been. Sans noticed on the way that nothing else about the lab seemed abnormal. There were no walls blown away or no fallen beams blocking their path. There was no rubble or debris or really anything that would have suggested such a violent disruption occurred.

There was one exception to this, however. Down near the end of the hallway there was one room where plumes of billowing black smoke spilled out, blocking the view.

"Gaster!" Sans called, his eyes going wide as he sprung ahead of Papyrus toward the smokey end of the hall. "Gaster, are you okay? Doc!?"

Papyrus stayed in step with Sans as he fought against the screeching siren to be heard. The doctor had yet to respond and that caused Sans to worry even more. Papyrus was worried too.

"Dr. Gaster!" Sans tried again, with no response, as he tried to wave the smoke away to see better.

It seemed as if the explosion had been condensed and contained within this one room, but from what Sans was able to see, what did happen in the room was completely devastating. As Sans looked around and squinted through the smoke, there was nearly nothing recognizable about the examination room. Equipment had been obliterated, containers were shattered, displays were in shambles, counters and chairs were in disrepair. Yet, it had all been contained. Even if the walls were scorched, they had not been blown through. Something made sure that the explosion did no damage beyond this room. Something . . . or some _one._

"Dr. Gaster, please!" Sans called again, searching the room. His voice was already starting to go hoarse. Perhaps he should have covered his nose and mouth before entering. "Answer me! C'mon, G! Wingdings!?"

Sans nearly tripped as he searched the room. When he caught his balance again, he realized he'd nearly tripped over a foot. No, a leg . . . no, a body!

"Gaster!" Sans gasped, rushing to move the bits of the table and counter that had him trapped. Though he fought and called his name, Gaster did not respond and he did not move.

"C'mon, G. Wake up! We gotta get you outta here!"

Again, Sans' eyes began to glow and the larger bits of debris lifted, uncovering the unconscious Gaster. It was then Sans noticed that beyond the smoke and ash, Gaster was in a worse state than he thought. His skull! His skull had been cracked, pretty badly too! The split started from his right eye and traveled all the way behind his head. They had to get him help! Someone should be able to help heal him right? But first, they had to get him out of here.

"Gaster, this would be so much easier if you'd just wake up!"

Papyrus entered the room as well, looking around and being able to point more shapes and identify the pieces of broken equipment. He saw the near quivering form that was his brother leaning over the doctor and as he saw it, a small part of him seized. Sans really did care an awful lot about the doctor in order to get a reaction like this out of him. Papyrus hoped that the doctor would be alright.

He was about to help, maybe carry the doctor out for Sans, but even as he made his way over toward where they were, he nearly slipped on something he had not been prepared to find on the floor.

Something glowing through the lingering smoke stopped Papyrus in his tracks. And there were more of them- dozens of them scattered across the floor. They were all a bright light blue color, small and round like tiny marbles littering the ground. Now that Papyrus was honed in on the color and the glow, he noticed little spots of the stuff all over the room, on the walls, on the floor, dripping from the cabinet, there was one destroyed machine that was absolutely covered in the stuff . . . and there it was oozing from one counter in the far corner of the room that looked untouched. It hadn't even been burned in the explosion. It had been completely spared.

A human soul floated there over the counter, glowing the same faint color of light blue. The soul seemed to be . . . leaking.

Papyrus made his way over toward it to take a closer look. The splattered pattern of the blue goo seemed to have originated from that soul.

"This belonged to . . ." Papyrus stalled, "Then she . . . died? The doctor couldn't save her . . . but then what is he doing with her soul?" The closer Papyrus got to the soul, the warmer the light became until it was almost hot as Papyrus reached out for it. No doubt if he touched it, it would burn.

"Ah!" Sans exclaimed. It seemed as if he'd learned that lesson the hard way. As he attempted to shift Dr. Gaster, he shattered one of the tablets and the blue goo splashed over his fingers. That and apparently something else was wrong with the doctor.

"Geez, he's burning up!" Sans grit through his teeth. "What the hell, doc? How are you running a fever? Papyrus, help! Find me a damp cloth or a towel or some ice water or something! We have to bring his fever down!"

As Papyrus left the soul in search for the things Sans requested, Sans busied himself with trying to remove Gaster's coat. It was during this that Sans noticed movement from the previously immobile form in his arms.

"Gaster! Oh thank goodness! C'mon, doc, wake up!"

The doctor shifted with a low groan and he fought to try to open his eyes. Of course, only one would obey his attempts. The other was stubborn and . . .

. . . In immense pain.

Gaster reached up to cradle the side of his face with both hands and he released a pained moan, though he didn't try to speak.

"It's okay, doc." Sans began, a small bit of relief washing over him now that Gaster was conscious again. "Don't worry, we're gonna get you outta here! We'll get your eye looked at once we can find you some help."

Gaster shifted again, hissing a curse under his breath as he cradled his cracked skull in one hand and attempted to move with the other. He groaned and tried to get to his knees. He spoke in a quiet tone as he fought with himself and the image of the swirling room before his eyes.

Sans noticed something wrong right away as Gaster swayed in his attempts to stand.

"Hey, on second thought. Maybe you should stay down, Gaster! You don't look too good, there."

Gaster spoke again, waving his hand and calling to existence his floating appendages. He continued his dictation as if Sans wasn't there- as if he didn't even realize there was anyone else in the room, or that there had been a devastating explosion that decimated it. When he spoke again, it was in wingdings, the language pulling at a strange mesh of curiosity and familiarity. Sans was able to pick out the words, "Test" and "Failure" right before the doctor crumpled over on himself again with a pained moan.

"Gaster!" Sans called, rushing to the doctor's side. He was apprehensive to approach him, his bones still hot to the touch. How could he even be running a fever?

He attempted again to help Gaster out of his coat. As many layers as he could do without, he needed to be rid of them. He needed to get that fever down.

As much as Sans tried, however, Gaster was uncooperative. He kept trying to pull away and continue his dictation. Whenever he spoke, he would be cut off again by another twinge of pain.

This continued until Gaster released a pitched cry and a sudden blinding flash filled the room. The flash sparked deep within the crack in Gaster's skull and emanated through it, filling the immediate area with light. When the flash died down, Gaster collapsed once again, gripping his skull in a vice as if willing it not to shatter.

"Papyrus!" Sans cried, "Where are we with that water!? We-we're really hurting here, bro!"

Gaster continued to groan, the volume of his voice rising incrementally until it was almost painful to listen to. The groans became screams.

"H-hang in there, Gaster." Sans tried again. "I-it's okay. We're gonna get you taken care of. Papyrus is-is on his way with water. We're . . . we're gonna try to bring down your fever, okay? Just-just hold on!"

As much as he was against the idea, Sans had to leave. If Gaster wasn't gonna cooperate, then he'd have to cut him out of his coat. The problem: how was he supposed to find scissors in this war zone? In an act of desperation, Sans began to fling debris from the explosion aside, searching for whatever was left of the drawers and cabinets. There had to be something in there! Scissors, knives, scalpels, box cutters . . . . SOMETHING!

Behind him, the doctor convulsed on his side, but there was something even more off about the motion. His breathing . . . the way his body twitched. He was . . .

Gaster was finally able to pull himself to his knees, but he wasn't able to do much more than that. He remained hunched, heaving over the side of the remains of the examination table. At first, nothing came from it, but after a few moments . . .

With a sickening sloshing, a thick blue substance forced its way up through Gaster's mouth and spilled across the floor, staining it in more of the same glowing goo. And once it started, it didn't stop. Push after push yielded more of the same and before long, there was a sizable puddle of the stuff.

Needless to say, Sans was torn from his mission of finding the scissors as Gaster's situation once again demanded his attention.

"Oh my God, Gaster!"

Again, Sans dropped to his knees beside Gaster, his hand falling between the doctor's shoulders as he heaved. The downpour of blue continued to fall. Where was it all coming from?

"What the hell did you do to yourself, doc?"

Not much later, Papyrus returned with a small towel and a bowl full of ice water.

"Sans!" He called, entering the room, "Brother, is this enough? Will this help?"

"Yes, Papyrus. It's-it's perfect. C'mon, we need it over here. Hurry!"

Together, Sans and Papyrus used the towel and the water to try to lower Gaster's temperature and for the most part, it seemed to work. With the application of the towel to Gaster's skull and the back of his neck, plus the expulsion of the blue liquid, the doctor was beginning to show signs of his normal self. His moaning quieted and he was even able to focus a bit on his environment.

"S-Sans . . ." He forced out after the majority of the blue contents had been expelled, "Sans, is that . . . ?"

"Yeah, doc." The apprentice answered, reapplying the wet cloth, "Yeah, it's me. I'm . . . y-you're hurt pretty badly. But me and Papyrus . . . Papyrus and I are gonna get you to bed. You've had a really rough night."

Gaster let out a long groan as he fought to catch his breath, his stomach churned and he felt like maybe he could vomit again. But even more pressing, even more demanding than that was the sharp pain in his skull.

"W-what happened? My head."

Sans hummed in discomfort, "What's the last thing you remember, doc?"

Gaster tried to answer, but even as he tried to recall, the pain in his skull made it nearly impossible.

"The room . . ." Was about all he was able to get out, "The soul . . . was it contained?"

"The soul . . ." Sans repeated, looking around the room and for the first time actually taking in what it actually looked like. That same blue mess Gaster had been throwing up . . . it was all over the place! And there in the corner . . .

"Oh my God . . ." Sans breathed, "Is _that_ what caused all this? Gaster, what on Earth are you doing with the soul? You've nearly _drained_ it!"

"Is it . . ."

"It's safe," Papyrus answered, reverting again to wingdings. It was still much easier to communicate with the doctor this way and this way, he knew the doctor would understand him. "The soul is safe, however, the container was shattered in the explosion."

"Explosion?" Gaster asked, refusing to speak back in wingdings. Again, the doctor fought to focus his attention beyond his immediate area. He took notice of the floor and the equipment and the walls and the cabinets.

Once again, Gaster groaned, curling over and reaching toward his skull.

"Ugh, my head." He repeated.

"Hey, c'mon. How about we get you to bed?" Sans suggested. You can rest in there and it's _much_ better than sticking around here. We'll figure out what to do next after that. But for now . . . you need to regain yourself."

Even as the three of them stumbled to stand, supporting a sagging Gaster, the awkward deterrent from the subject hadn't escaped Gaster's notice.

"What aren't you telling me, Sans?" Gaster asked, "What's wrong?"

Sans turned his eyes away, focusing on anything else except the look Gaster was giving him. There were _several_ things wrong here, but he needed time to sort through them all in his own mind before he could even think about how to talk to Gaster about them. For now, he chose to stick the most obvious."

"I can't think of anyone who knows how to heal bone." Sans said as plainly as he could. "The most we can do is try to dull the pain, but your skull . . . Dr. Gaster . . . if it had split any more than this, you would have lost half of your face . . ."

Gaster let out a low hum as they walked from the room. Slowly, he reached up to finger his eye and he felt the split in his skull for the first time. He trailed the crack all the way to the back of his head. Even though he tried to cover it up, the shaky breath he took at the realization demonstrated just how shocked he was at the discovery. So he didn't even know his _skull_ had been cracked?

"Well . . ." Gaster breathed, "That . . . explains a lot. Like that ringing . . . and why I can't see out of that eye."

"Gaster . . ." Sans responded, the new information hitting him like bricks, "Should I . . . we need to find you a healer."

"There's no point. Like you said. There is no one who can heal bone. For now . . . bed sounds like a good idea."

And so Sans and Papyrus supported the unstable doctor as he directed them down the correct hallways. Neither of the other two Skeletons had ever been to Gaster's room before and neither one of them knew the way. So they had to rely on Gaster's direction.

More than once, they had to pause as Gaster's stomach churned once again and he had to fight not to vomit again. He knew that if he did, it would be Sans cleaning it. And he'd been through enough that night already. He had enough to deal with without making even more work for him.

But speaking of work . . .

"The others will have to be contacted." Gaster droned, "We'll have to remain closed. It's a matter of security until we can get that room back in order and the soul contained once again."

Sans nodded.

"But . . . I'd rather they not know just yet what happened." The doctor continued hesitantly, "It . . . is rather embarrassing."

"Don't worry, doc. I'll think of something to tell them. But that's later. Right now, let's get _you_ taken care of."

Not much longer afterward, they were able to find Gaster's room.

Right away, both Sans and Papyrus were stumped by how massive the place was. Just in the front area, they could have easily fit two of Sans' room. This place was more of a small apartment than a "room" and it was obvious that Gaster had put in a lot of work to make this place livable. Part of Sans wondered if Gaster had been expecting him to do the same with his room.

But that was far from the reason they'd come. They needed to get Gaster to bed, which of course meant getting him out of the stained, burned, and blackened clothing he was wearing.

"You wait here, Papyrus." Sans instructed, "This shouldn't take long, but I gotta make sure the doc gets to bed okay."

Papyrus nodded his compliance and let go of the doctor. He stood near the entryway as Sans continued onward, past another threshold and into the area where Gaster must have had his bedroom.

In the meantime, Papyrus looked around to see just how Gaster organized his room. For the most part, it looked pretty well furnished with a good-sized desk, a couch, a coffee table, and some cabinets where he must have kept his paperwork. There was no television or radio or computer or anything that showed much of what the doctor did in his free time . . . Except for maybe the literal WALL of books just behind the desk. That was definitely interesting.

Curious, Papyrus wandered over to the desk to read the titles . . . There were several history books lining to top shelf and theory books just beneath it. Biographies, journals, Geology, an atlas, Science Fiction, even a few fantasy novels . . . And on the bottom shelf . . . were those children's books? Interesting.

Moving on to the cabinet beside the desk, there were a few more very interesting things: a folder with several loose pages sticking out of the top and sides . . . and that over there must have been Gaster's personal journal. But the thing that caught Papyrus' attention was a dusty picture frame that had been turned around and placed face-down.

Carefully reaching out, Papyrus took the frame carefully in his hands, brushing off the dust with the end of his shirt. As he looked downward into the photo, he tilted his head in curiosity and confusion.

This was a picture of Gaster. There was no doubt about that. It looked like it was from a long time ago- a time when he was clearly able to smile freely. The look was so natural on him and Papyrus wondered how long it had been since the doctor had smiled like that.

But aside from the doctor, were two other Skeletons. One was almost the same size as Gaster, though a bit more delicate looking. The smile was gentle and kind and Papyrus was immediately drawn to it. It was a very comforting and endearing expression that made him feel at-ease. She looked content and happy. Papyrus thought that she would have been very nice to have around and he bet that she was an excellent storyteller. Though, why he would assume that by looking at her picture, he had no idea.

The third Skeleton was very small in comparison to the others and the only way he could be seen in the photo at all was because Gaster and the lady Skeleton held him up between them. The child Skeleton seemed to be laughing at something very funny, or, more likely something had been done to him to cause him to smile so broadly. Perhaps the other two bigger Skeletons had told him a joke, or they had recently tickled the child or thrown him unexpectedly into the air. There was something infectious about the child's smile and Papyrus couldn't help but smile as well.

This must have been Gaster's family. They all looked like they belonged together, like it would have been unnatural to see one without the other two. But the problem with that thought was that Papyrus had seen Gaster plenty of times. But the other two . . . he had never even heard of. Why? Where were they now? Why did he never mention them?

With a look back to that first and most familiar Skeleton, Papyrus couldn't help but wonder what happened. Dr. Gaster used to be so free and unburdened. He used to be able to release his grip on the lab and embrace other things. He used to be whole . . . complete.

But now . . .

"Papyrus!" Sans hissed from the other room. "Don't go around picking up and touching things that aren't yours!

Startled, Papyrus flinched, hurrying to replace the picture and the frame exactly where he found it. Though, in his panic, his hand hit against one of the other few things on the top of the cabinet. The blue vase wobbled, unsure of whether to right itself or topple over. After a moment or two of deciding, the vase fell, rolling in a wide circle before nearly falling over the edge toward the unforgiving surface below, and threatening to take the bunch of small echo flowers with it.

Quickly, Papyrus reached out again to save it from the fall. He was able to catch the blue vase, but the flowers cascaded to the ground where they were activated and chimed to life. Right away and without warning, the room was filled with a chiming melody and haunting words.

There was a dark groaning sound coming from the other section of the apartment, and through Sans' insistent protests and direction, Gaster sat up.

"That's it," He demanded his demeanor stolid and stiff, "You need to go! Now! Get out of my room!"

"I'm sorry!" Papyrus defended, his hands trembling as he dropped down to pick up the flowers and bundle them together. It was the least he could do, he knocked them over. He should at least pick them up. "I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I'll put them back."

"You put those down this instant and get _out_! Sans, take your _brother_ and leave. I thank you for everything you've done tonight, but I can not have that . . . creature in here!"

Sans stalled as he looked between Gaster and Papyrus in the other room. Again, the thought of leaving Gaster alone after something as harrowing as what happened in that examination room really didn't sit well with Sans, but in his current mood . . . it was probably best to comply. Gaster would be okay for one night, right? And besides, he could always stop by and check on him. Not to mention that Sans now had a _lot_ of work to do if he wanted to clean up the examination room.

"Alright," Sans sighed, "We're gone then. Just . . . be careful, Gaster. Get some rest and you know how to reach me if you need something."

"Indeed." Gaster answered plainly, he was still livid about Papyrus in the other room. His eyes hadn't left the other as he tried with shaky hands to reassemble the echo flower bouquet.

At once, Sans went to collect Papyrus, taking the flowers from him and replacing them and the vase on the cabinet top. He also set the picture frame upright and front-facing once again, but he hesitated when he caught a look at the family preserved behind the glass. Everything that had crossed Papyrus' mind when he saw the photo flashed through Sans' mind in the span of a few seconds and he left the photo alone as he slowly backed away from it.

"Alrighty, bro." Sans instructed quietly, "Let's get out of here. We've got a lot of work to do and Gaster needs his rest, okay? We'd better leave him alone for now, don't you think?"

Papyrus nodded in response. "Yes brother." He answered in a voice smaller than Sans had ever heard from Papyrus. "Let us be on our way, then."

As the pair of them turned to leave, Sans shot another look at the photo, something standing out to him and striking at his curiosity.

Funny how Gaster never spoke about his life outside of being the Royal Scientist. Sans had to admit that the thought was intriguing. For a moment, he looked at the family, his eyes focused on one of them in particular.

That boy . . . the child Skeleton was almost an exact match to Papyrus . . . almost.

Maybe that Undyne lady had a point . . . Maybe she wasn't as crazy as he had previously thought.

He would have to interrogate, or rather, question her about it later. She had been absolutely right. Their dealings with her were far from over.

Turning away from Gaster and the photo, Sans left, following Papyrus out without another word. They had to get started on cleanup.

Heh, so much for a few hours of rest.

* * *

Gaster's room was dark and the doctor lay in bed, just about every bit of him was in some kind of pain and he struggled to find the kind of rest he had promised Sans. For a few minutes at a time, he had been able to close his eyes and drift, but the visions would startle him awake once again.

In his dreams, he would see a never-ending sea of dust. People he knew . . . people he considered friends and colleagues. Asgore. Toriel. Their children. His lab assistants. Sans. His wife. His son. They had all been standing before him moments before. But now, their dust clouded his vision and powdered the ground beneath him. He realized a moment later that it wasn't ground he had been standing on at all, but more dust. All monsters. He was the only one left.

The dust was shifting. He was sinking- being funneled into a pit. He was going to be consumed by the dust! Already, it was up to his waist, his chest, his shoulders, his neck. He was going to drown in dust! He held his breath.

His foot hit something. A bottom? Glass. So this was . . .

Gaster reached out and his hand hit more glass. He was trapped in a glass container with the dust of all the monsters he'd ever met and all the monsters he hadn't funneling into the ground.

"An hourglass." Gaster realized. He wondered what it was counting down to.

He reached out to the glass again, knocking fervently on it. He tried to use his magic to break the glass that way if he could. But every time he tried, there was a sharp ringing and a shattering pain in his skull and his magic would fizzle from existence. He was useless and trapped, waiting to be turned to dust himself.

There was a shift. Something moved. The room . . . the hourglass was being moved- being lifted. Being turned. Gaster fell, tilted and upended to land on the flat surface. The dust! The dust was falling now! It rained all around him, all over him. It covered him and threatened to bury him. Again, he could do nothing but watch as the falling dust engulfed him, swallowing him whole. The whole thing made him sick to his stomach. He wondered whose dust he was breathing. Who was coating his hands? Who was seeping between his vertebrae? Who was clogging his airways? Who was choking him to death?

The dust covered him and though he fought to breathe. He couldn't. He coughed, trying to rid himself of the dust.

The coughing continued and got harsher, shooting pain through his skull.

Gaster awoke in the midst of a violent fit of coughing- one he hasn't suffered in _years_. His stomach churned and he fought to catch his breath.

He turned to his side where he'd brought a bucket just in case he still had any remnant of the soul essence to expel from within him. As he reached for the bucket, the coughing continued and Gaster noticed the dust billowing from his throat now. His own dust. Bone dust.

"No!" Gaster gasped around the cough, his eye going wide, "No, Damn it! Not again! Not now!"


	12. Moving On

**AN: Hello-hello, ladies and gentlemen and monsters of all ages! Welcome back to another chapter! It's been a fantastic journey so far and we're not done yet! As always, thank you for coming back time and again! Thank you for reading, following, reviewing and returning!**

 **A few updates: I'm happy to say that Surpassing Origins is selling fairly well so thank you to those of you who have gone to see what it's all about! The title is available on Amazon for 13.99. If you would like to know more about the story, feel free to comment or PM me! I'm always here to answer questions! BTW, You WILL get sick of me promoting this! But hey, that's my job!**

 **Also, I have decided to start doing illustrations for this fic! You can find them on my Deviantart page at the- black- moomba. Right now, there are two images for this story as well as several characters and illustrations from Surpassing Origins! (*hint-hint. Wink-wink*) and some fan art I did a while ago for Kingdom Hearts! I will continue to update you when there is new material. Feel free to go check it out whenever you like!**

 **All of that being said, this chapter is relatively short in comparison to the others. My hope is that it will lead into the next section. So this could technically be considered "filler" but I do NOT recommend skipping it! Alright! Enough of all that! You guys enjoy and I'll see you next chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

 **Moving On**

Sans and Papyrus spent hours just trying to figure out where to begin cleaning. In the meantime, while brainstorming the options, Sans used the time to call the other assistants and let them know that there would be no work for them in the morning. Most of them seemed a bit out of it, and at 4am, Sans figured that it was to be expected, but he needed to get the word out before people started showing up. He didn't explain much of why the lab would be closed. He just informed them that there was an accident and Gaster told everyone to stay away from the lab until he said otherwise.

He toyed with the idea of leaving Gaines out of the communication just to see the look on his face when he realized that he'd gotten up, gotten dressed and had come to work just to be turned away. Sans would've gotten a laugh out of it . . . but still. He didn't want to stir up those toxic feelings with his colleague again. May as well call him too.

The cleaning was slow-going. Once they started to move things around, they noticed just how much of the blue goo was all over the place . . . still glowing . . . still hot to the touch. They collected the little marble-like tablets and set them in a dish, wishing they knew a bit more about what exactly they were supposed to do with it.

In the end, they decided to just pitch everything in the room and start from scratch. The equipment would need to be replaced and the whole room scoured from top to bottom. May as well start with an empty room. So, while Papyrus was occupied with moving the debris from the explosion, Sans was busy cleaning what he could of the goo. He was sure Gaster would want to salvage as much of it as possible . . . and with a lot of hesitation and a lot of internal debate over whether or not the idea was really a good one, Sans started filling test tubes and vials with the stuff and setting them aside. Even as he did it, there was a stern frown in place just behind the smile. There was nothing about the doctor's dealings with the human Soul that he liked and even as he tried to see the bright side to it all, that the doctor would be using this and the information he's gathered in order to free all monsters . . . the fact that he was putting it before his own health, the fact that the soul he was using once belonged to a little girl, the fact that it was literally and figuratively eating away at Gaster . . . none of it felt right to Sans.

If the doctor kept on the way he was, these experiments could kill him . . . it had nearly claimed his life already. He needed help.

But even so, given the nature of this project . . . Sans doubted that he would be able to bring himself to be that help . . .

Best to leave the big decisions for later. He had to focus on clearing the room. He was able to find the soul a new container and he stored it and the goo away . . . for future use. The sooner it was out of sight, the better Sans would feel about it.

Even days later, after the room had been cleared, Sans and Papyrus struggled to clean it. It was like no matter what they did, what happened in that room couldn't be washed away, so the final step was to repaint it before it could be refurbished, restocked, and operational again.

After so many long days, both Sans and Papyrus were showing signs of fatigue- Sans especially. He still hadn't been able to catch up on his sleep and it was starting to show in his posture and in his speech and in his movements. But still, he worked to get the lab in working order once again so they could continue on the projects without falling too far behind schedule.

And when he wasn't working on that, he was busy taking care of Papyrus. After all, it was his full-time responsibility to make sure he was happy and occupied. And if he wasn't with Papyrus, Sans was visiting Gaster . . . who was slow to recover after the explosion.

For a few days, the doctor had been wearing bandages around his head, covering his eye and making sure his skull stayed intact. Part of him, admittedly, was terrified that the split in his skull would lengthen and, like Sans had said, he would lose half of his face, but after a few days and some _very_ controlled mild experimentation, Gaster was reasonably confident that his worry was for nothing. And that wasn't even the best news. After some rest and some work into the issue, Gaster had regained at least partial sight in his eye! Granted, it wasn't at 100%, and he doubted it ever would be again, but he could make out fuzzy colors and blurry shapes using that eye and if he strained it a bit, he could even make out a few vague details.

"That's great news, doc." Sans acknowledged through a sleepy grin, "It's definitely an improvement from last week!"

"Indeed it is," Gaster responded. The doctor was sitting at his desk, going through some of the paperwork Sans had been working on, reviewing the contents extracting the pertinent information and setting aside to use in his report for the king.

It was nice for Sans to see him up and working again. It meant that he was still driven and dedicated to his job, despite his injury. Even through his drive, Sans noticed, however, that the doctor would have to take more and more breaks; the pages upon pages of paperwork gave him more frequent headaches now that he was unable to focus the same way. It took him longer to read through the pages and in some instances, he had to squint to read the writing clearly. In a low mumble, Gaster had even mentioned investing in glasses. Sans chuckled a little at the idea, finding it difficult to imagine, but when Gaster shot a look toward him, Sans had quickly stifled his laughter, keeping it limited to a slight bounce in his shoulders.

As Gaster worked, Sans continued to keep company, taking to lying down on the couch and skimming through one of the books Gaster had lying on the coffee table.

He actually had a little time to kill. Earlier that day, Sans had sent Papyrus out to get a start on his map while he took care of some stuff in the lab. He started repainting the examination room and Gaster had even been out to see it. At first, he seemed a little too quiet as he looked it over and for a moment, Sans was worried about what he would say about it. But after a moment or two of staring intently into the room, his eye analyzing every corner, he had finally given an approving nod and Sans was able to relax a little more.

"Really, it's a good thing we did Spring Cleaning so recently." Gaster had mused on their way back, "We have that room's inventory catalogued so we already know what needs to be replaced. Good work, Sans."

"Heh, thanks, Doc." Sans shrugged with his hands in his pockets, "But I'd be lying if I took all the credit. Papyrus did a lot of the heavy lifting. And we took the debris to be destroyed together."

"I see," Gaster hummed, "Well, good work all the same."

That had been maybe four hours ago, and now, Gaster was absorbed in his paperwork while Sans was reading through a dusty book as he laid back on the old green couch, taking a bit of a break.

It wasn't until Sans felt something moving unexpectedly that he realized that he'd drifted off. When he opened his eyes again, it was to a softly smiling Gaster lifting the book from where it had been splayed opened over his chest.

"Oh, good morning, Sans." The doctor acknowledged. "Did you rest well?"

Sans frowned a little, trying to piece together what was going on. Eventually, he drew in a long breath and stretched.

"Doc . . . ?" He asked, still groggy, "How long was I out?"

"Only an hour or two, but it looked like you needed it." Gaster let out a faint chuckle. "Do you even remember what the book you were reading was about?"

Sans took a moment to sit up, "Eh . . . Something about field rotation and what grows best in the fall. . . something like that . . . Were you just gonna let me sleep here?"

"As long as you needed." Gaster answered, "Like I said, you seemed to really need it. You've been working yourself ragged as of late and it was the least I could do."

"Oh . . ." Sans chuckled quietly to himself, suddenly finding something very interesting in the hem of his shirt, "Well, thanks, Doc. But I've still got quite a bit to do before we open up again. We're bringin' everyone back tomorrow, right?"

"About that," Gaster mused, replacing the book onto the shelf to join the rest of his collection, "I've been thinking we could hold off one more day before we open the doors again. It would give us both another day to recalibrate and start fresh. What do you say?"

"You're . . . suggesting we take a day off?"

"I am. So, what do you say, Sans?"

Sans laughed outright, "You know me! When have I ever turned down a day off?"

"It's settled then! Tomorrow, you use the day to rest so that we can start fresh and continue our projects the next day."

"Sounds like a plan to me, doc!" Sans agreed as he pulled himself to his feet. "Ha! Don't expect to see me at all tomorrow. As of right now, I'm off the clock!"

"Good night, Sans." Gaster called with a light chuckle to his voice, "Rest well."

"See ya!"

Gathering himself and straightening out his clothing once again, Sans made for the door.

"Sans . . . ?" Gaster called again just as his apprentice was about to close the behind him, "Before you start off . . . I wonder if you'll do me a favor . . ."

"What's there to wonder about?" Sans responded automatically, keeping the door propped open. His smile, though, had faded slightly when he heard the saddened hesitation in Gaster's request. When he turned around again, he found Gaster with a small stack of books. All of them had covers of cartoonish creatures against brightly-colored backdrops and scenery and all of them seemed to be meant for a child's enjoyment.

"I want you to take these, Sans." The doctor began slowly, "Please . . . There is also a . . . a box down in the sub-basement. I want you to take all of it. Take it to Snowdin and place it all underneath the Giftmas Tree."

Sans looked back at Gaster with a shocked expression and for a split second, his attention flashed over to the picture on Gaster's cabinet. When he looked, he could see that it had been completely wiped clean and it seemed to be more prominently displayed. Gaster had been looking at it recently.

"Doc . . . Gaster, are you sure?"

Gaster nodded once with a slow dip of his skull. "Absolutely. I believe seeing the prince so excited about the pail, really helped. Those things have not been doing any good locked up and hidden away . . . and they never will as long as they are here. Besides, it _is_ approaching that time of year. Perhaps they can go to children who will enjoy them. That way, perhaps, they will get another chance at life."

Sans halted once again as he looked back to the stack on Gaster's desk. As he did, he remembered the box of toys and clothing in the sub-basement . . . the pail he'd given away to the prince. All of that kid stuff . . . did all of it belong to Gaster? To his son . . . ? The little boy in that picture? Had the doctor been keeping it here all this time, hiding it and any sign of his past life from him and from anyone who would think to ask about it? Had he been silently suffering with the weight of his loss this entire time? Why hadn't he mentioned any of this before? Did it hurt that much to think about?

And now . . . he was entrusting Sans with such a deep and personal secret- letting go of his son's possessions and sending them out. A part of Sans could sense the deep hesitation within Gaster at the gesture. This was a huge step for him. He was not only alluding to a subject that was still very painful for him, but he was _doing_ something about it. Something productive!

As Sans focused on the books, his smile spread once again and a bit of pride for the doctor joined in with the expression as well. "Alright, then," He grinned, doubling back to collect the stack, "You got it. And don't worry, G. You're absolutely right. These things are going to do a lot of good and help out a lot of kids."

Though he was curious and wanted to ask Gaster question after question about his past life, about his family, about his wife and about the boy, about the toys in the sub-basement, Sans knew that now was not the best time. Gaster was placing a lot of faith in him just to do this one thing . . . and this one thing was obviously stinging him. Sans felt it best not to poke at that sore spot.

Gaster's smile spread as well as he watched his apprentice gather up the books in his arms. "Thank you, Sans." He said with a sigh.

With that, Sans took the books and headed out to find the box in the sub-basement once again. He would take Papyrus with him once he got back. They could grab dinner at Grillby's. He'd been craving a good burger.

Once Sans was gone, and the door had closed behind him with a _click,_ Gaster let out a long breath, his shoulders slumping slightly as he leaned back against his desk, though the soft smile remained intact. In the moments that followed, his attention went back to the framed photo on the file cabinet.

"It's done." He said quietly to the smallest Skeleton, "It really is what you would've wanted isn't it? I'm sorry it took so long."

* * *

When Papyrus returned to the lab, he was greeted in the atrium by his brother, wearing old Converse tennis shoes, an old T-shirt, a holey pair of jeans and his regular blue jacket. As he sat on one of the counters lining the walls, Papyrus noticed that Sans was definitely dressed to go somewhere. On the floor beside him was a decently sized cardboard box.

"Hey, bro." Sans greeted, kicking his feet as they dangled over the edge of the counter. "You feel like helping me with something?"

Papyrus tilted his head in curiosity. What could they possibly be doing with that box of . . . well, he couldn't quite see what was in the box as Sans had tried to close off the top by folding over the opening flaps of the cardboard. They didn't quite close all the way, so Papyrus was able to make out the corner of something.

As he approached the box and his brother, he could see the corner of a book. It was one of the cartoonish children's books from Dr. Gaster's office!

"He's not throwing these away, is he!?" Papyrus nearly exclaimed, concern taking over. "He can't get rid of these!"

Sans halted for a moment, his brow raised as regarded Papyrus' genuine dislike of the idea. Why would he care so much what the doctor chose to do with his own stuff?

"I didn't know you cared so much about this stuff." Sans answered slowly, "I already promised the doc to take it to Snowdin. But if it makes you feel better. He's not _throwing_ it away. He's _giving_ it away to the kids who can get good use out of it. Like that bucket we gave to the prince. Remember how happy he was to get it?"

Papyrus nodded, a bit of his worry falling away as he looked back to Sans. His smile held pride and a bit of contentment. He was convinced that this was the right thing to do and that made him feel good about it. Papyrus tried to latch on a bit to that feeling as well.

"So," he began again, "This is like that time with the bucket? But with more things and more children, right?"

"Exactly, bro! Doesn't that sound good?"

Papyrus nodded. For some reason, the same kind of enthusiasm didn't come as easily to him . . . at least about this particular venture.

"How about before we go to Snowdin, we go through this box once. You can pick out one thing to keep, but the rest has to go."

Papyrus nodded with renewed resolve. "I like that idea."

"Then we have a deal!"

It didn't take long at all. Within five minutes, Papyrus seemed to find the thing that caught his eye the most. The toys were cool, the glittering geodes were pretty, and he would get absolutely no use out of the clothing or shoes, because they were far too small, though Papyrus did think the sense of style was top-notch. But what really drew his attention were the books! They all seemed like such good stories, but of course, there was one that stood out even above the others.

"This is the one, Brother!" Papyrus proclaimed after those five minutes were through, "This is the one I'll keep."

He handed it to Sans where the other Skeleton looked over the cover and flipped through the pages.

"Peek-a-boo with Fluffy Bunny . . . ?" Sans questioned, again, trying not to let his own thoughts of the book reflect in his tone. If this was what Papyrus liked, then who was he to tell him 'no'? "Good find, Paps."

Papyrus smiled as he closed off the ends of the box once again. "Thank you, Brother! Now, I'll put this away and we'll take the rest of them to Snowdin!"

* * *

Once again, Sans and Papyrus decided it would probably be best to employ the services of the Riverperson in order to get to Snowdin in a timely fashion. Right away, the two noticed something a bit off about their guide. Instead of the cheerful "Tra-la-la" to which they were accustomed, the Riverperson was nearly silent as they navigated the waters. It made the entire trip longer and more awkward not to have that cheery chime to occupy the time. But finally, they arrived at the port for Snowdin Town.

Even as they walked, carrying the box into the town, the dreary air hadn't subsided. Everything felt thick and heavy like a debilitating fog had descended over the area. The streets were abandoned and the lights had nearly all been extinguished. The few people who were left shuffling through the streets seemed slow and downtrodden with no purpose behind their movements.

As they'd come to do, Sans and Papyrus traversed the town, making note of the atypical atmosphere and how the feeling of dread seemed to be contagious. Snowdin was usually such a cheerful and peaceful town . . . but now, just being within its limits seemed to drain the HP right out of them! What could've happened that had the ability to change an entire town like this? Not only the town, but the Riverperson too!

"Hey, Paps." Sans asked in a hushed tone, "Were people like this when you came out for your map mission today?"

Papyrus had to think it over for a second or two, "There weren't many people when I was out before. Just like now. But those I saw were looking away, like they didn't want to talk or say hello."

Sans nodded. Maybe it would be better to get in, do what they came to do and get out.

So, with little more conversation, the brothers continued on their mission. They found the Giftmas tree in the middle of town and set the box of old clothing, toys and books down by its trunk. The opened the cardboard flaps and "fluffed" the contents, making it visible to those who would pass by. The items in the box were free game to whoever wanted them and they wanted to make sure the others knew that.

They didn't know what they were expecting when they made their delivery, but it wasn't the dark glares from the few monsters who were around the area. They were looking at them as if they'd done something distasteful or downright disrespectful. And the fact that they had the nerve to come in, make a display and _smile_ about it was offensive.

A large bit of that resolve from before was eaten away by those looks. Was it a mistake to travel to Snowdin today . . . ? Maybe a shortened visit really was best.

Though Sans had really been looking forward to going to Grillby's . . . perhaps another time. Still, he stole a glance inside through the large glass pane in the front of the establishment to see what was going on in there. Even the few people inside of Grillby's had their heads hung low and it didn't look as if they wanted to chatter or eat much. They seemed distraught. What the heck was going on around here!?

They had to get to the bottom of it.

Outside of the bar, stood a tall Bear monster. He always seemed to be here no matter what, and he was always good for a bit of new information. Though his specialty seemed to lie in politics. Today, he was standing outside of Grillby's discussing current events with a young Horse monster with sunglasses. They both had their hands shoved in their pockets as they spoke in hushed tones.

"Yeah, but I wonder what this means as far as the rest of us are concerned."

"Well, whatever comes of it, we'll just have to carry on and be as supportive as we can. They would do the same for any of us. That's what makes a good leader. That's politics."

As Sans and Papyrus approached, both of the other monsters let out audible sighs.

"I guess we'll just have to see." The Horse resigned as he stood up completely to walk away. Seeing the Skeletons approaching, he found it in his best interest to find something else to do somewhere else. He shot another heated look to them before walking past them without a word.

The brothers watched him pass and let him go uninterrupted, but they both noted the scathing looks. Sans let out a scoff, a bit perturbed by the seemingly unmerited aggression. Papyrus, on the other hand, seemed more nervous than anything that maybe he had done something to offend the monster.

But pushing aside the reaction of the Horse monster and continuing on with their quest, they approached the Bear.

"Hey, buddy." Sans greeted evenly, knowing better than most, not to force false cheer in a situation such as this, "What gives? What's got everyone so depressed and grim-like? And what's with all the death stares? What the hell bit this town in the ass?"

The Bear had yet to lift his face, but his eyes shifted to see Sans. "Well, you're less comical than I remember you being."

"Gee, I wonder why." Sans retorted, "Must be a bad audience."

"Truth be told," the Bear hummed, "I had a few questions of my own I wanted to ask, but you just answered them all so quickly and effortlessly. It was as if you knew just what I was going to ask."

Sans let out a breath as he turned to face the same direction of the Bear, his foot propped against the brick wall of Grillby's as he shoved his hands in his pockets and stared out toward the Giftmas tree. "I don't suppose you wanna tell me what those questions are, do you?"

"Well, there's no need anymore now that they have been answered. But for your benefit, I can. I was going to ask what in the world possessed you two to come to Snowdin today of all days carrying _that_?" He nodded toward the box by the tree. "Children's toys? Giftmas presents? Considering everything that's happened, it seems the least appropriate thing to be doing right now. But judging by your questions, you have absolutely no idea what happened, do you?"

Sans shrugged his response. "If I knew, I woudn't've asked."

To his surprise, the Bear chuckled, "No, I suppose not. Well, let me ask you this instead: How much do you know about the royal family? Their kids in particular?"

* * *

When Sans and Papyrus returned from Snowdin, it was to an empty lab. They called and called and paged and searched for Dr. Gaster to pass along to him the information that the Bear monster had shared with them. No matter how many times they called for him, however, there was no response.

It wasn't until much later that night, after hours of pacing and fidgeting, that Gaster finally walked through the front doors of the Lab. His posture was slightly hunched and he seemed distracted as he nearly walked right past Sans and Papyrus where they stood in the atrium. His attentions were refocused when Sans called to him.

"Oh," Gaster sighed lifelessly, "Hello, Sans. Papyrus."

On any other occasion, Sans would have been elated to hear the doctor using Papyrus' name in contrast to any of the other dissociative and negative things he's called him in the past, however, this was neither the time nor the place for it.

"Doc . . ." Sans began slowly, "Did you hear? About the kids?"

Gaster nodded. "I received a call from the king earlier. It seems that early this morning, their adoptive human child died of a terrible sickness. The prince disappeared not long afterward. The king wanted to know if I had seen him. Of course I hadn't . . . however . . ."

There was a long pause in Gaster's words and though he fought to remain in control of his personal feelings through the recount, the deep sadness and complete furious rage in some sections was unmistakable.

"This evening . . . the prince . . . Asriel returned."

"They found him!" Sans answered a little too quickly and a little too enthusiastically. After all, the tone in Gaster's voice was still so dark and solemn that there was no way that anything that was going to follow was anything good.

Gaster neither nodded nor shook his head. He only continued with the report. "It seems as if the prince had taken the child's soul, absorbed it, fused with it . . . how he even knew to do that at such a young age is . . . I suppose he really had been learning a lot . . .

"Using the human's soul, Asriel crossed the barrier to take the body back to their village. He only wanted to _bury_ the child . . . Lay them to rest in a familiar environment . . .

". . . But those damned humans. It's ALWAYS, those damned humans! They . . . attacked him brutally. They hit him with everything they had! Just a _child_! But, the soul had transformed him . . . and the humans . . . they didn't even bother asking questions! They just assumed . . . They just . . .

". . . Asriel got away from the attack and came back home, still clutching the human child's body tightly. However, not much later, he was overcome by the severity of his wounds."

"Then that means . . ." Sans breathed, his sockets wide and his heart beating like a jackhammer behind his ribs.

Gaster let out a steadying breath as he concluded.

"Prince Asriel is dead."


	13. Technicolor Hearts

**AN: Hello everyone and welcome back! As always, thank you for following and for reading and for all of you wonderful reviews and comments! It really makes all of this worthwhile! I'm glad you are all enjoying this so far and believe it or not, I think I can see the end of the story from here! That's super exciting!**

 **But before we get to that point, there are still a few things that need to happen! ^_~ And we are just a few chapters away from knowing EVERYTHING!**

 **So, I won't keep you long. Please enjoy and I'll see you next chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 11**

 **Technicolor Hearts**

Everyone deals with grief in different ways. First off, grief is a terrible and powerful thing and depending on the way people handle it, it has the ability to change who they are. It can either strengthen them or tear them apart.

Throughout the Underground, it was as if a wave of grief had swept from the ruins all the way to the capital and there was a unified sense of dread. The news of the deaths of Asriel and Chara hit the monsters like a cave-in and many of them took it like a death sentence themselves. Their days were slow and aimless while their nights felt bleak and empty and it seemed as if every aspect of life had been affected. Businesses closed while the employees and shop owners took time to mourn and on the same aspect. The patrons, couldn't find it within themselves to go out and shop.

The lethargy was, by no means, limited to the shops and businesses. Life at the lab had been similarly affected. The assistants reported for work just as they were scheduled, however, so often, they were slow and distracted that Gaster deemed them unfit to perform their tasks. In a short display of frustration, Gaster had even closed the lab. He figured that if the assistants were sluggish and absent-minded, they would be prone to more mistakes, which he could not afford, especially now of all times. In this state, he could get more work done without them. So until such time as they were not so inconveniently distracted, he had no use for them.

So, in the weeks following the children's untimely demise, Gaster worked alone on the most pressing of the projects. He couldn't let something like this hinder progress and these conditions were not foreign to him.

Sans would come and attempt to help the doctor as well. And really, Gaster was grateful for the extra pair of hands . . . aside from those he summoned himself. From Gaster's perspective, it seemed as if Sans was not as easily distracted as the other assistants. Either that or he knew better than the others how to push aside and work through those more negative thoughts. What's more was that Sans didn't need direction. He seemed to know exactly what Gaster was doing and where he would be of the most use. He didn't waste time speaking and asking meaningless questions. He did have to leave earlier than Gaster would have liked now that he had Papyrus to take care of as well, though he continued to take some of the paperwork back with him to work on in the evenings, so even if he wasn't doing lab work, he was still being productive. Gaster understood and, again, was grateful for the help.

However, perhaps it was better that Sans wasn't around as much. It allowed for Gaster to focus more intently on his work . . . and it meant that he didn't have to hide the constant clearing of his "scratchy throat" and Sans wouldn't have to give him concerned looks and silent questions.

It wasn't so long ago that the roles between the two had been reversed and Gaster had been the one who was eying Sans with concern. Back then, Gaster had wished that Sans would have opened up and talked to him a bit more. He still never really found out what was wrong with Sans besides the fact that he had been mysteriously losing HP, but in the recent weeks, it seemed as if those worrisome moments were behind them. At least as far as he knew.

But now, he did notice how taxing it really was having someone constantly watching your movements as if expecting something horrible to happen at any given moment- to have to work through your own physical suffering and keep up appearances for the sake of others.

He'd tried to set Sans' mind at ease and assure him that there was nothing wrong, but at the sudden onset of coughs that soon followed, Sans' eyes narrowed. He didn't ask or look for reassurance, but it was obvious that he didn't believe Gaster in the slightest.

There was a part of Gaster that wanted to just come clean and tell Sans exactly what was going on . . . maybe there was even a way for his assistant to help . . . but about this . . . this was personal . . . it would probably better if Sans were not involved after all . . .

Gaster was sick. He was running out of time . . . he'd been on borrowed time anyway, but now, with whatever he had left, he would do everything he could for as many as he could. Maybe afterward, he'd leave his unfinished projects to Sans. He was the most qualified to carry on after he was gone. But then again . . . he wouldn't wish his life on Sans . . . All of the secrets, all of the stress, all of the questionable methods . . . Sans shouldn't have to inherit all of that. He deserved so much more than Gaster would ever be able to leave him. No, he wouldn't leave this place to Sans, no matter how qualified he was.

Gaster cleared his throat, suppressing his coughs and with that, he could feel a certain fire being lit under him. Maybe if he could find his breakthrough, no one would have to inherit his burdens and he could die peacefully knowing that what he'd done was actually worth something in the end.

Something pulled at the corners of his mouth at the thought. It wasn't quite a smile, but maybe a cheap imitation of one. He kicked himself for thinking the way he was. What would Nyala have said if she could hear him talking like that. Like he was staring the end of his life in the face . . . If she'd known what he'd been doing? How he had been going about getting his results . . .

Gaster rubbed at his skull, fingering the crack over his eye. There's no way she would have approved of this . . . especially with as selfish reasons as he'd had for pursuing it. If there were a way of creating a synthetic human soul from the essence of a real one, he should have been using it to help break the barrier first . . . after all, what good would enhancing his own physical strength and endurance do if there was no reason to use it?

If she'd asked, he probably would've said it was for Sans, since his HP was so low, the added strength and endurance would help him regain some of what he lost.

It would have been a lie. Another lie to himself, to Sans and to his wife.

Gaster hummed as his movements slowed. He was having a hard time following his own thoughts now . . . perhaps a short break was in order before continuing his work.

He sank in a nearby chair and rested his elbows on his knees. His head sagged between his shoulders as he hands cradled his skull.

 _ **'Focus'**_ he told himself in a voice that was both foreign and familiar to him. It had been a while since he heard from N.V. He thought he was finally rid of it after so many years of pushing the voice aside and attempting to silence it . . . however, since the explosion, N.V. was back with a vengeance. Louder and more insistent than ever. _**'What good are you if you can't concentrate? After all, isn't that why you sent all of the assistants away?;**_

"I know," Gaster answered aloud, "Just, give me a few minutes . . ."

 _ **'And what lame excuse do you have for that? What actual progress have you made that makes you think you deserve a break?"**_

The doctor let out a long breath as his hum became a low groan.

"I'm so tired." He was forced to admit.

 _ **'Excuses.'**_

Gaster cleared his throat, letting his eyes slide shut for a moment. "No, It's not an excuse. It's fact. At this rate, it's pointless to even consider—"

"Um, hey . . . Doc?" Came a cautious tone from the entryway as Sans leaned in. He was dressed rather nicely in dark colors. Nothing fancy or formal, but definitely a step up from the usual casual attire he would adopt when there was no one around.

"Hey," He began again, "You ready to go?"

"Go . . . ?" Gaster had to ask.

"The address? The memorial? You asked me to come get you when it was time, remember?"

Gaster let out another long breath as the thoughts caught up to him once again. Well that did explain Sans' more presentable attire and the dark colors. "Yes, of course." He answered plainly. Quite honestly, the thought had slipped his mind even though he promised himself that he'd make an effort to attend. For anyone else, he probably would have refused to go entirely . . . but for Asgore and for Toriel. He owed it to them. "Just . . . give me another minute or two . . . I'll meet you in the atrium and we'll make our way to the capital from there."

Sans took a moment to look back at Gaster and he gave a slow nod, "Ok."

With that, Sans left Gaster alone and made his way back to where Papyrus was waiting for them.

"Was Dr. Gaster ready?" Papyrus asked.

Sans shook his head slowly in response. "He forgot. Two hours . . . that's gotta be a new record or somethin' . . . he's definitely getting worse."

"And there's really nothing you can do for him?"

Sans shrugged, "What _can_ I do? I've been trying to lighten his load . . . but even still . . . And it's not like I can just go and force him to tell me what's going on . . . And Gaster never really has been the forthcoming type. I'm sure that if he needed my help, he'd let me know."

Even as he said it, Sans felt the sardonic chuckle that went with it trapped at the back of his throat. Of _course_ Gaster wouldn't tell him! When had Gaster ever really told him anything that was going on? He had been living in the lab with him for _how_ many years now and he'd only just learned about his family? And that was only after he and Papyrus happened to stumble across the information.

Well, granted, Sans really wasn't a fountain of gossip himself, and yeah, he understood that every man had his secrets, but still . . . this went beyond just concealing the past . . . Gaster's health was in question here. And Sans was worried.

It didn't take long after that for Gaster to reappear. He had replaced his clothing to a more suitable and darker color scheme and he switched out his lab coat for a knee-length black coat that helped to accentuate his height. As he approached, he kept his hands in a low steeple in front of him and Sans had to note how strange it was to see Gaster without _something_ in his hands. He was always carrying a notebook, text, or equipment of some sort, but this was . . . there had to be a better word than "different" or "strange" but whatever the word was, Sans couldn't find it.

Gaster stopped when he reached the other two, gesturing cordially to the entrance.

"Shall we?"

* * *

Grief is a powerful and terrible thing and depending on how one chooses to handle it, it can have the power to either strengthen them or tear them apart.

Everyone could see the effects clearly in both Asgore and Toriel. In the course of one night, they had lost both of their children. One to illness and the other to the mercilessness of humans. Neither one of them seemed to be handling the loss well and for a long while, there had been complete silence from the two of them.

Weeks had passed since the news of Asriel and Chara hit the Underground. It had taken the king and queen about that long to compose themselves enough to call the monsters together for an address. They thought that the best thing to do to help themselves and the people of the Underground cope, was to host a memorial service for the children at the capital. Those who could attend and who wanted to pay their respects to the children were welcomed.

Generally, monster funerals tend to be relatively short. Usually, only a few close friends and loved ones are in attendance for the support of the surviving family members as they say goodbye to their fallen member. Someone will say a few words for the deceased before their dust is spread.

Asriel Dreemurr did not have a funeral. His dust was never collected, but was instantly scattered across the flower garden in the throne room. So the address was called, the monsters brought together in the middle of the city to formally remember the life as a whole. As they stood from the tall archways of the giant domed pavilion-like building, Asgore and Toriel did everything they possibly could to retain at least minimal appearances of their position. The façade was thin and there was a serious lack of conviction behind their appearance.

The entire monster race was looking to them for guidance, for some indication of what to do next. They needed something. Someone to tell them how to pick up and move on. From the shadows of their own suffering, the king and queen did their best to be that light for them- to show the monsters of the Underground that they could still be everything they needed and everything they expected.

But their appearances were cracked and even the most oblivious of monsters could see that they were starting to fall apart at the seams.

When Asgore spoke, his tone was low and his speech was slow. It was obvious that he was ragged and near the end of his wits.

He began with the story of what happened. He told everyone about the illness that killed the human child and how Asriel had taken the blow. The human had been Asriel's best friend, his playmate, and the one thing that kept him occupied and happy. He had learned so much from that relationship.

Asgore told them how Ariel was able to cross the barrier and what happened to him when he did. He told them about the human attacks on him. And how he was able to somehow find his way home before he died.

There were times when Asgore would veer off on a tangent, reminiscing on his children. His voice would often catch and he would sigh deeply, almost forgetting to speak at all, but at a touch from Toriel, he was brought back to the present enough to continue. It was depressing and disheartening to watch.

From the roof of a nearby building, Gaster looked along, watching the service from afar. Below, it seemed as if the entire Underground population was in attendance for the prince's memorial. It was standing room only down there and even if Gaster _wanted_ to be a part of the throng, he doubted there would be any room for him down there. No, up here was much less . . . claustrophobic.

He was not the only one who had the idea. There were several people who were thinking along the same lines and were scattered along the rooftops in positions where they could see and hear the king and queen while avoiding the sea of people below.

So from the roof, he, stood, watching along as his friends attempted to keep face as they suffered through what were arguably and quite possibly the worst days of their lives. The loss of a child is . . . the worst pain any parent could possibly feel. To have a life that you helped create and nurture. A life that you had the opportunity to watch grow suddenly be ripped away. To forever wonder what they would have grown to be . . . such a waste of unrealized potential. To be constantly plagued by the memories of their laughs and their smiles knowing that they would never be seen or heard again. It is absolutely devastating . . . Especially the loss of one as young and as genuinely pure as Asriel.

Gaster knew that pain more than any other monster in attendance, and as he stood, with his arms folded behind his back, he could feel his entire soul aching for his friends. This is why he needed to come. This is why he had promised to get away from the lab to be in attendance. The king and queen, Asgore and Toriel, his friends, were in pain. And when Gaster had been going through the same kind of pain, they had been right there to literally support him when he fell apart.

 _ **'Well, now they can truly say that they understand what you were going through. Now they know that same pain and how useless it is just to have the empty words of people who say they feel sorry for you. Or worse, that they sympathize. Sympathy suggests that the person is in-tune with your pain. That they feel the same pain you do. No one can feel your pain unless they've been through it themselves. No one could ever possibly know the agony and suffering you've endured unless they have had to endure it too. Now, they can finally say they sympathize. Now they know first-hand how you felt all those years ago. And they know how impossible to continue smiling. How much it physically hurt to put on a false face and**_ _ **pretend**_ _ **to be alright, to make light of the darkest days you have ever suffered. Just look at them. They don't even know how to do that. How can they hope to keep the Underground together when they can't even do it for themselves.'**_

Gaster hissed quietly to himself as he shook off the dripping thoughts of N.V.

From the corner-edge of the same roof, with their feet hanging over the edge, Sans and Papyrus didn't seem to notice. They were intently focused on the domed building, listening to the king speak.

Gaster tried to drive the snide thoughts of N.V. as far away as he possibly could as he continued to listen in.

But the king had halted his speech, seemingly mid-word as he looked over the faces of his people. The king could see the pain in their faces and in their bodies as they stood packed together like a fistful of weeds, shriveled, dull and devoid of life. He realized he wasn't the only one who was thoroughly devastated by the loss of Asriel and of Chara. There were so many people right in front of him who had seen the friendship between the two of them as a sign- as a ray of hope for the future. A monster and a human getting along, becoming as close as brothers. It was proof that there was hope for them all, that maybe, finally, they could return to the surface and be accepted.

And then in the course of just one night . . .

Asgore lowered his head and let out a long breath.

"I am such an idiot." He grumbled in his low voice, "I am such a damned idiot!"

Immediately, Toriel's eyes widened and her ears perked. Asgore _never_ cursed in public! What was going on in his head? Once again, she laid a hand on his arm, attempting to bring him back to the matter at hand.

"Gorey, honey . . . the address."

"To hell with the address!" Asgore bit, "Look at them, Toriel! They are in as much pain as we are! These people don't need us up here talking about how sorry we feel for ourselves. They need leadership and direction! They need action!"

There were gasps and rumbling chatter that quietly spread through the crowd. This was a different Asgore than many of them had ever seen. This wasn't the kind-hearted and gentle soul that they'd come to know. This was someone with an agenda. Someone who was ready to release a boiling vat of rage that had been building up over a long _long_ time. Someone who was ready for a fight!

At once, Toriel tore her hand away from her husband, a certain worry crossing her features. He was deviating from their plan! He was veering from the speech they'd carefully formulated together! He was going off-script and there didn't seem to be a way to talk him out of it!

"My people," Asgore began again, a different tone coming over him, a voice no deeper than normal, but ten times darker carried his true thoughts and emotions for the entire situation. "I have made a terrible mistake. I have failed you! Now is not the time to be in despair and in agony! No, now, of all times, is when we should be banding together as one! Strengthened by one another with one common goal, one common purpose! Now, more than ever, we must stand united against our real enemy! The disease that has plagued this world since before many of us can even remember! I'm talking, of course, about the humans!

"Take a second and think! How many times have the humans taken everything we've ever had!? How much have we already lost at their hands!? How long have we been trapped in this Underground _HELL!?_ "

In the crowd, there were scattered claps at Asgore's more direct approach and honest-unbridled emotion. He was angry! He was _more_ than angry and to them, it was refreshing to hear. It got their own spirits going and it lit a fire under them. They cheered and applauded, finally feeling as if they were on the road to making some progress. The King was going to _do_ something about their situation and this was where it was going to start!

Gaster, from his spot on the top of the building, raised a brow as he listened. His interests and curiosities piqued as he became more attentive to the King's more forceful tone. The way he spoke . . . it was as if he had transformed right in front of his eyes! And Gaster was intrigued to hear what this new assertive Asgore had in mind.

"How long has it been!?" The king continued, "How long have we been robbed- deprived of any and all hope of being able to see the sun again!? Any and all hope of ever being on peaceful terms with the humans!?

"Look at where we are! Look at what they've done! The humans have made it perfectly clear that they have no intention of making peace with us. When a _child_ presented himself to them, their first reaction was to _slaughter_ him! Tell me, does that seem like an affirmation of peace!?"

There were more cries from the crowd now as the speech pulled at their emotions, several more monsters now cheered at Asgore's fury and several more shouted loud "boo"s at the distasteful display of the humans. The monsters began to rally together, creating a slowly but steadily increasing roaring rumble.

"They didn't show Asriel a single shred of mercy! And I say that if the humans won't show us mercy, then why should we show any to them!?"

"When the humans sealed us down here, they were hoping to be rid of their 'problems' by sweeping us under the rug, hoping never to have to see us or deal with us again! And they actually expected us to just bend over and take it!"

From behind the king, Toriel's eyes went wide at the utterance, "Asgore!" She gasped, "That's incredibly indecent!" She continued with a hiss as she leaned in closer to his ear, "There are children in the crowd! Please! Think of them before you continue."

Asgore continued at full volume, "The children need to know the true nature of the world they live in. If we don't show them, then how do you expect them to learn?"

"Please, Asgore!" Toriel pressed, still keeping her voice lowered, "Just calm down."

"Calm down!? Tori, how the _Hell_ do you expect me to keep calm after all of this! How can _you_ keep calm!?"

Toriel's face fell drastically as she glared back at Asgore. The shock was gone from her expression and from her posture as a darkened look crossed her features.

"Don't you dare make this about me . . ." She said in a lowered voice, making sure absolutely no one except for Asgore could hear her. She removed her hand from his arm slowly so it hung at her side as she shook her head, "And _don't_ make this about you either! This was _supposed_ to be about our son! About our children! Look at what you've turned it into!"

For a split second, something flashed in Asgore's eyes, but as the crowd continued to cheer with such zeal, he turned his head away from Toriel once again. His people had gained so much more life with his words than he'd seen from them in several decades, maybe even centuries!

"Look at you!" He re-addressed his citizens, "This is not the life you deserve! You were not meant to bow your heads to the humans. And for a long while, that's exactly what I had you do! That was the mistake of a young and naïve _fool_! Well, I say no more! Don't you think it's about time we stop being docile!? Let's show the humans that we're stronger than that! We will not just roll over and die! We will stand! We will fight! We will take back what is ours! We will show them that they cannot keep us down here forever!"

The churning of the monsters' roars became an explosion! So many were thrilled, inspired by the idea of what Asgore was suggesting! They would finally be taking a stand against the humans. They would take the surface back for monsters! They would fight the humans with no mercy of which to speak! They would give those humans a taste of their own medicine!

Toriel hung her head, turning her face away. It was difficult for her to even listen to. It was as if everyone in the underground had forgotten the reason behind this gathering, turning it into a bastardized celebration instead of the tribute it was supposed to have been.

"This isn't what he would have wanted," She muttered quietly to herself, "I'm so sorry, Asriel."

She had to hide her face away as Asgore continued, and it took everything she had just to remain standing by his side and listen to what he was suggesting.

"Now, I know you're wondering what we could possibly do from here. I admit, while we are trapped down here, there is not a lot we can do to reclaim the surface . . ." Asgore hesitated as he caught one or two monsters' shoulders drooping, "However!" He continued and he shot a look up to the corner of the roof where Sans, Papyrus and Gaster were watching. "Our esteemed team of scientists have been hard at work looking for a solution to this conundrum for quite some time. And while they are dedicated and very talented, they need your help!"

Gaster's expression widened a bit, his eyes opened slightly and he tilted his head in curiosity. Asgore was going to tell all the monsters about his project? The one he'd labeled "classified" and "highest priority"? Interesting. Well, if all monsters were on board with the project, then perhaps there was a way to complete it in an even shorter amount of time. On the other hand . . . Gaster couldn't help but wonder just how many added and unforeseen variables Asgore was adding to the project by including everyone. What could he possibly have them do? How could they possibly "help"? Or were these just idle words to motivate them into hope?

"This is what we know," Asgore began again. "In order to break the barrier and be free from here, we need souls. Human souls. Seven to be exact. Once we have collected them all . . ." Something struck Asgore then as he looked back upward toward Gaster. Gaster, looked back with a silent question. They both knew what would have to happen in order for the seal to be broken. It was not as if they could just throw the souls at the barrier and shatter it. Asgore would have to absorb all seven souls in order to become strong enough to break the spell and the seal. But if that were to happen, there would be no way for him to revert to the way he was now. Their Asgore would be lost forever. It seemed as if there was a part of Asgore that was genuinely frightened by that idea . . . but to save his people, that was what he was willing to do.

Asgore gave a nod and Gaster nodded back. If he was sure it was the route he wanted to take, then that will just have to be the way of it.

"Once we've collected all seven souls, we will be strong enough, not only to shatter the barrier, but to rid this world of the human infestation! This is war! And it all begins here! But we need your help to make this a reality. So, from now on, I want you all to be on the highest alert! Humans will inevitably fall into the Underground. If you see one, we want you to eliminate them on sight! Inform the Royal Guard immediately. They will collect the soul and deliver them to us. Now, the humans are a violent species. This much is true, so you must exercise extreme caution. If you do not feel you can fight the human, find someone who can. If you see a monster fighting a human and they are outmatched, _help_ them! With your help, we will be free once again and we will finally know true peace!"

Again, the monsters erupted into a raucous bout of cheers and applause. Finally, a ray of hope seemed to be in sight and freedom was within their grasp. Every monster wanted to play their part in helping their king in his war against the humans. This would call for every single one of them and they were more than ready to assist.

On the roof, as the Skeletons watched over the crowd and the king and queen, a very different wave of emotions seemed to wash over them.

Gaster wore a smile that tore across his face like a rip in a sheet of paper. He had not been expecting the king to out in out declare a full-on war against the _entire_ human race! What he knew of Asgore had always pointed at the king to be more of a pacifist. And _if_ he had to fight, he would do so defensively, But he would never instigate confrontation and would, instead, seek out a peaceful alternative. On top of that, Gaster had not foreseen a reaction quite like this from his fellow monsters! It was a much-needed change in the morale of this place and it did, indeed, motivate everyone to move forward, even the doctor himself.

He let out a deep laugh, unfolding his arms from behind him and joining in with the applause with his own slow and steady clapping.

"Well done, your majesty." He nodded quietly to himself, "Well done."

Meanwhile, from his seated position at the corner of the roof, Sans sat with both hands fisted tightly in the fabric over his knees. He had to fight with himself to keep his breathing even and controlled as he listened in to the king's speech and the other monsters' reaction to it. His eyes had gone completely black as he stared at nothing in particular and tried to absorb everything he'd just heard. And though he was otherwise unaware of it, just about every inch of him was trembling.

It wasn't until Papyrus reached out to him that he even remembered where he was and at the touch, Sans flinched heavily, nearly jumping out of his . . . well he didn't have skin . . . but if he did, he would have jumped out of it.

"Brother?" Papyrus asked cautiously, "Sans, are you okay? You don't look well."

Sans' widened eyes stared back at Papyrus as he fought to find words. For some reason, he couldn't find a single one. And it hurt to breathe. And his chest . . . felt tight.

Papyrus reached out to take Sans' hand in his own, but even as he did, there was a warm warning heat that emanated from Sans. Papyrus would undoubtedly burn him if he touched him now.

"Dr. Gaster?" Papyrus called over his shoulder, "Dr. Gaster, there's something wrong with Sans!"

"No!" Sans finally responded, though a little too suddenly and a little too adamantly, "No, not . . . No . . . I'm-I'm fine . . . I'm okay."

It seemed as if he was still having trouble breathing and even as Sans pulled himself up to his feet, turning his back on the king and the crowd of people still cheering for the oncoming war, Sans cradled his head, as if in an attempt to cover his ears and block out the sounds.

At the sight, Gaster stepped forward, ceasing the claps and congratulatory remarks. His smile faded when he caught a glimpse of Sans' face. It looked like he was suffering- like he was in pain.

"Sans?" Gaster frowned, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Sans answered. Again, the response came a little too quickly, "I said I'm fine!"

Gaster stalled for a moment, assessing the claim. He noted Sans' widened and empty eyes and the lack of composure in his posture, he knew that look well. He'd seen it several times in the eyes of his family and in his own expression when he saw the crack in his skull and when the coughing started again. That was fear in his eyes. Sans was terrified.

"You're lying, Sans. You're not fine. But I think I understand. There's no need to lie to me."

Sans scoffed, "You do?"

Gaster nodded as he tried another step forward, "You're afraid. This declaration, this war on humanity is no laughing matter. There will be fighting, there will be dust . . . You must be wondering how you fit into it all . . . If you were to come face to face with a human . . . I'm sorry to say, but you wouldn't stand a chance."

Sans scoffed once again.

"But you see, you needn't worry. Your role in this is not that of a soldier. And I assure you that you will be protected."

Sans shook his head, muttering the word "protected" under his breath as he stepped away, making sure to avoid Papyrus and Gaster. "That's not it." He retorted, "But you get an 'A' for effort. Look, don't worry about me, okay. I just . . . need to get some rest. That's all . . . I'm going back to the lab. Feel free to stay here and celebrate with everyone else, Paps."

Both Papyrus and Gaster stood, shocked, as they watched after Sans' retreating back. On a hunch, Gaster stealthily CHECKED Sans to see if there was anything off.

His Max HP had been trimmed down to 4.

Gaster snapped an accusatory glare toward Papyrus and CHECKED him as well.

Papyrus . . . didn't have Sans' missing HP this time . . . So where had it gone?

 ***meanwhile back with the King***

Asgore looked over the excited faces and cheerful vigor of his people, drinking in their enthusiasm. He'd never seen so much life in them. The shriveled weeds from before were completely gone and what he saw before him now was a field in bloom. Each monster was completely motivated to do his or her part in ensuring freedom for them all. It was a refreshing sight and it even motivated him.

But when he looked behind him to show his wife just how much change there had been in the monsters since they'd all gathered, there was no sign of the queen. Toriel had slipped away sometime during the address and Asgore was left alone.

* * *

Grief is a powerful and terrible thing. And depending on how each person deals with it, it has the power to either strengthen them or tear them completely apart.

After meeting with several monsters regarding his plan for the attack on humanity, some asking how his family was holding up, and others asking where Toriel went (Asgore had told them a white lie about her being tired and needing to go home to rest), Asgore returned home. His first thought was to find his wife and fill her in on everything she missed . . . maybe find out what happened to her earlier.

The house seemed desolate. Empty. Lifeless. With the exception of the few golden flowers Asgore had taken from the garden to help liven up the place, the house seemed abandoned. Toriel's chair hadn't been occupied in weeks and the pleasantly warm fire that she would usually keep going in the hearth had long since been smothered. It was likely that she wouldn't be lighting another fire there for a long _long_ time. The space in front of the fireplace had been a favorite napping place for both Asriel and Chara and Toriel had always been more than happy to keep the fire going for them, sometimes falling asleep right along with them.

Those had been some of Asgore's fondest memories from the times his family had been whole. And now . . .

Pushing the memories aside, Asgore searched the house, calling for Toriel by name, there was no answer. He checked every room and called her name in each room- all to the same silence.

After searching all of the rooms, Asgore stopped and descended the staircase. Obviously, she was nowhere in the home. Perhaps she had gone into the throne room.

Quickly and silently, Asgore navigated the walkways and corridors, passing through silent halls and empty passages in hopes to hear or see anything of his wife. Of course there was still no sign of her. Even over one of the walkways just before the final corridor that overlooked one of the thickest parts of the capital; the place where he and Toriel would spend hours contemplating, discussing the future of monster-kind, cracking jokes with each other, flirting . . . the place was barren. The streets below were empty as well-so many monsters having shown up to see the address and perhaps just had not made it back yet to fill the streets again.

Onward then, through the final corridor where the bright reds and golds shone through the stained glass filtering through one of the only places in the Underground where actual sunlight could permeate the barrier. That light played against the tiles, painting the room in a state of perpetual sunset.

Sunset had been Asgore's favorite time of day and he and Toriel would find any excuse to sneak away and watch it together nearly every day . . . of course that had been before . . . before the first war, before monsters had been forced underground . . . before he and Toriel had even been married . . . heh, even before Asgore's horns had fully grown in. They were young, betrothed to each other through their families. Asgore had been so nervous and clumsy and awkward around Toriel, terrified of doing or saying something wrong. Of course, Toriel had found it endearing and adorable and Asgore had fallen hard for her shortly after.

When they commissioned this room be built, they had been trying to recapture that part of their lives, their brightest memories of their lives on the surface.

It was when he was nearing the end of the corridor that he heard it. A soft voice speaking to someone despite the lack of response. Scattered between words and phrases where the gentle notes of a quiet song.

"Tori?" Asgore whispered as he stepped through the threshold. The voice carried from beyond the walkway leading to the throne room. Asgore followed the voice and realized that Toriel had taken to the room below the entrance to the throne room. It was a long staircase down into a dimly lit space, dank and dreary.

Toriel was turned away from the door as she leaned down to stroke the hard rigid edges of a small casket adorned with a red heart. She was humming a soft tune, something she would often do if one of the children had fallen or had a distressing nightmare. It was a calming sound, sweet and soothing. Asgore couldn't help the small and saddened smile as he listened in.

"Here you are, Tori." Asgore greeted with a tiny smile, "What happened to you out there. I missed you. And everyone was asking about you."

Toriel halted in her singing and in her movements. She stood up completely, but didn't turn to face Asgore. She let out a long breath, clasping her hands in front of her as if trying to stop herself from trembling.

"Well, look who it is." She said in a dark and quiet voice. There was just the slightest tremor to her words.

"Tori?" Asgore questioned, stepping forward. He reached out his large hand to rest on her shoulder. In another step, he was close enough to wrap his strong arms around her and hold her close. She had been crying. He could tell just by that little tremor in her voice and how she refused to lift her head and look at him. Doubtless she was a strong woman, but sometimes, in times like these, she needed the support. And he was always happy to oblige.

"Don't 'Tori' me, Dreemurr!" She snapped, ripping herself away from his embrace and putting a sizable difference between them, "And don't touch me!"

"Tori . . . el" Asgore hesitated, struggling to find the right words to use for her. Toriel would only call Asgore by his last name in one of two situations. Either she was being very flirtatious and playful . . . or when she was extremely upset with him. The latter happened so infrequently, that it was always a shock when she did it.

For now, Asgore took a step backward, giving her the space she wanted. But she was still upset and he felt he needed to do something to rectify it. He needed to mend her shattered spirit. The problem was, he was never really good at verbal comfort. That was her specialty. She always knew just what to say. If he couldn't hold her, what was he supposed to do? Especially if he had no idea what was wrong.

"Toriel." He sighed, "Talk to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"The fact that you have to ask is, in itself, a cause for concern." The queen bit.

"Was it something _I_ did?" Asgore questioned, his eyes going wide. She was like this because of _him_? What did he do to cause this? Or was it something he . . . said?

"Is this about the address?" He concluded, "Look, Tori-"

She gave a warning growl.

"Toriel. I know it wasn't the route we'd worked out together. But when I saw their faces . . . so dejected and hopeless. You saw them . . . so many looked like they were at their wits end. They needed something to give them a little hope!"

"'Not the route we worked out' . . ." Toriel scoffed shaking her head, "Asgore, it was the _exact opposite_ of what we'd agreed to say! We were _supposed_ to assure the people that despite this, there was still hope for peace! That we would not let this set us back as a people! That even through this tragedy, we would remain steadfast and sure that we would find a way to regain our freedom together. That . . . display . . . I am astounded that they are not rioting out there as we speak! You . . . you turned it into a circus . . . What were you thinking!?"

"Tori . . . I—"

"A _war_!?" She cried, finally turning to face the king, " _That_ was your bright idea of banding the people together!? Of giving them hope!? You remember what the _last_ war was like don't you!? How many we lost! How many families were completely obliterated! How many friends we lost! Who could possibly be hopeful after that!? Why would you _ever_ want to bring that on us again!? Tell me, who does that benefit!? Who's hopes are you really milking with that sentiment?"

She hung her head, letting out a long breath and steadying her nerves before making a confession, "I know you're upset about our son. I am too. And I know you blame the humans. I blame them too. I'm furious at what they did to Asriel . . . to my . . . perfect little boy . . . and yes, I would love to exact that fury against those . . . _barbarians_. Make them pay for what they did to us . . . for what they did to _him_! It makes me absolutely sick! He did _nothing_ to merit that brutality! He was just a child . . ."

Toriel trailed off as her voice cut short and her breath was pinched harshly in her throat. She shut her eyes tightly as burning tears began to flow again, matting her fur and leaving stains on her cheeks.

Asgore listened to her every word, each one was like a burning hot knife that penetrated his defenses and cut him straight through. The amount of pain his wife was in . . . the unadulterated rage behind her words . . . he had no idea she felt that way. And through it all, she had pushed all of that aside to call for mercy. She still had hope that a peaceful solution could be reached, despite what happened to Asriel.

He reached out to her again. She was falling apart. If nothing else, he could at least be her support before she crumbled. But even as he tried to reach her, she took another step backward to keep her distance.

"No, Asgore." She sighed, taking breath after steadying breath as she fought with herself to speak again. "Please don't." Her next words were quiet as if she was speaking more to herself than to him . . . which, of course, was not the case, " Declaring war . . ." She groaned, "At our son's memorial . . . What the hell!? Oh! And that's another thing!" She continued at full volume, "How could you be so _vulgar_! In the presence of children, no less! The things you said . . . disgraceful! And extremely unbecoming of a king! And then . . . to turn on _me_ and expect me to play along in your little stunt! Accusing me in front of _everyone_ of not being passionate enough about the murder of my _son_! How DARE you!? How could you do that to me!? How do you think that makes me look to them!?"

Asgore's jaw fell open slightly as he listened to her, and the more he listened, the more he realized just how she felt about the entire situation. She was right. He hadn't been thinking about the implications of what he'd said. Had he inadvertently made her seem weak or villainous? And even if the other monsters didn't feel that way about her . . . she did. And that was because of him.

"Tori, please! Let me make it better!"

"'Make it _better_ '!? It's a bit late for that, Dreemurr, don't you think!? The damage has already been done! We're at _war_! Against all of humanity! Or have you forgotten that already? Every monster out there is expecting us to lead them into glorious victory now! Going on a rampage and slaughtering every human who crosses our path! How does that make us any different than the humans!? What? Are we going to kill every child who presents themselves to us now too!? Because that is _exactly_ what you just suggested our monsters do! 'Eliminate them on sight'!? 'Rid this world of the human infestation'!? Did you even hear yourself out there!? How could you subjugate them into doing _your_ dirty work!? Not all monsters are fighters, you know! And all humans are not evil! Our child was proof of that! And you just gave every monster an order to kill first and never ask questions! What if the human doesn't want to fight? What if they are innocent, just like Asriel!? Did you ever think about that!? And now, thanks to you, we'll never know. Thanks to you we'll _never_ have peace. Not really anyway. Either, we will somehow find a way to be 'victorious' and all have to live with literal and figurative blood on our hands . . . or worse, we get to the surface with a declaration of war in our ears and in our heads and be completely wiped out by the humans! And you will have been the fool of a king who led his entire species to extinction! You said you were an idiot for surrendering to the humans and asking monsters to stand down? You were _smart_ then! You had the well-being of your people to think about and you did what you had to in order to spare them! _That_ is what a king should do! That is how a king needs to think! You were no idiot then . . . but now . . . Well, I hope your happy with your decision, whatever it entails."

Toriel went quiet after that, though she was still fuming. It seemed that after a long tirade, she'd run out of words. And what was worse was that Asgore couldn't think of a single word that could help calm her or comfort her through this. He'd messed up badly in her eyes and as of that moment, there was nothing he could do to fix what had been done. The declaration had been made. The monsters had their orders and they had their expectations. They had their image of their leaders. Anything he said now to contradict what he said earlier . . . would send a ripple effect of negativity and bring his leadership into question.

"But Tori . . ."

"Why are you still here?" She scowled, turning back to the casket where their human child lay resting, "Don't you have anything better to do?"

That stung more than anything else she'd said to him before. It seemed as if there really was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say to bring her around. At least not at that time. Perhaps with time, he could find a way to present himself to her and maybe they could come to some common ground. For now . . . he would leave her, but not before he said one thing.

"I'm sorry, Toriel." He sighed as he turned to reascend the staircase.

Toriel turned back for a moment to watch Asgore leave, a certain part of her wanting to call him back. To fall into his arms and let him be that comfort that she even had to admit to herself that she needed and that he'd tried so hard to be . . . but the larger part of her, who was still livid from everything that happened and everything she'd said, let him go. Now was not the time. She needed the space and they both needed the time.

* * *

It didn't take very long after that. Only a few weeks in fact since Asgore's declaration of war. The people of the Underground were in a state of complete jubilation, announcing the good news in the streets and telling anyone who would care to listen.

They'd done it! They had managed to kill not one but two humans! Twins! Brother and sister. It seemed they had fallen into the Underground near the Ruins while on a camping trip. They'd managed to find their way through the Ruins virtually unscathed. They were the sneaky sort and managed to escape capture all the way to the area just outside of Hotland where they were finally cornered and eliminated! The sister acted as a distraction, brandishing a gun at the monsters surrounding her as the brother ran forward, with his frying pan in hand- off to fight the king, no doubt.

But through the joined efforts of the monsters, they were both eliminated and their souls harvested by the Royal Guard to be delivered to the king as requested. As a new recruit in the guard, Undyne seemed more than happy to be the one to deliver the souls. That one in the cowboy hat had been her first kill and she was particularly proud of that!

Word travelled quickly and soon it was all anyone was talking about.

Their souls had been Yellow and Green.

 ***In the capital***

It didn't take long at all for the news to reach New Home. The Royal Guard had in its possession two human souls and they were heading to the lab to be processed before being delivered to Asgore and Toriel.

Toriel had gone absolutely silent when she heard what had happened. The two humans were only children . . . just like she had been dreading from the beginning. Without a second thought, the monsters, their people, had slaughtered innocent children and were parading around the Underground celebrating like it was some grand accomplishment. There was a dark part of her that could easily picture the humans celebrating in a similar fashion knowing that they had killed her son.

And Asgore hadn't gone to tell them otherwise. He was their leader. He had given them the order, if there was going to be a change, it would have to come from him.

Still Asgore did nothing. In fact, he nodded when the news was delivered. There hadn't even been the slightest hint of remorse, regret, or change. He had been given another chance . . . and again, nothing came of it.

That was the last straw. If Asgore wasn't going to change his tactics, then she would have to take matters into her own hands. She would scout the humans first. Protect them if she could, prevent any more needless bloodshed. Especially if that blood was innocent.

That night, after Asgore had gone to bed, Toriel left silently. Her mission rang clearly in her ears and she would do everything she could to stop Asgore's plan from coming to fruition.

 ***At the lab***

Back in the lab, they seemed to be ecstatic about the news as well. They now had three of the seven souls they needed and with the addition of these two, they would finally be able to assist in the processing. They could finally see what the doctor had been planning to do with the souls before.

Sans stood in the back of the enthusiastic monsters listening in to their frenzy but opting not to participate. There were too many things going through his mind at the thought of having two more human souls brought in for processing. After what happened to Gaster with the last soul and the implication of what had to have happened in order to obtain these new souls . . . he wasn't sure if he wanted any part of it. And he wasn't sure he could handle it.

Sans went to bed early that night, feeling absolutely drained. He wasn't feeling well again and there were knots where his stomach would be. His mind was swirling and his orientation was skewed. He needed to lie down before something bad happened.

Papyrus returned later, having finished another section of map. He'd made a habit of coming home with enough time to make sure Sans had something to eat and enough time to get a bedtime story in before they fell asleep.

This time, however, when Papyrus returned, Sans was already in bed, but instead of finding a peacefully sleeping Skeleton, Papyrus had opened the door to their bedroom to find Sans clutching his pillow tightly, magic spilling from his eyes and hands. Around him, other objects, books, clothing, the chair for the desk all floated in mid-air, being held aloft by Sans' magic.

Something was wrong! Something bad was happening to Sans!

"Brother!" Papyrus exclaimed, rushing toward Sans, dropping his things and kneeling to stop his brother's fit. "Brother, wake up! Please! You have to wake up!"

There was no response from Sans except for the moaning. He was repeating a low muttering "No no no no no . . . I can't . . . I won't . . . No no no . . ." Papyrus had no idea who Sans was talking to or why he sounded so distressed, but he knew one thing! Something was happening in Sans' nightmares that forced him to think he needed to use his magic. Maybe Sans thought that his life was in danger and he was projecting the images from his mind to what was happening in the real world.

"Sans!" Papyrus called again, taking the smaller skeleton in his arms. "Brother, it's okay! I'm here and I promise nothing is going to hurt you!"

Sans continued to muttering refusing to loosen his grip and refusing to wake up.

"It's okay!" Papyrus continued, hoping that he was saying the right things, "You're safe here! I'm here and Dr. Gaster is here and your friends are here! Nothing is going to hurt you! I promise . . . I promise . . ."

From there, it took a few more minutes and a bit more assurance, but eventually, Sans relaxed, the magic dying down. The objects around came crashing down, the chair being the heaviest, but still he slept through it. Soon, Sans was just sleeping just like any other night, safe and sound in Papyrus' embrace as his brother comforted him.

It almost went unnoticed, and if Papyrus hadn't been paying such close attention to Sans at that moment, it probably would have been. In the seconds that passed as Sans resumed resting, there was a subtle blue glowing that emanated from his chest. That must have been Sans' soul . . . but why was it so close to the surface? It should have been deep within his ribcage.

Papyrus continued to watch to see what would happen and at first it was as if the soul was just floating there, trying to escape, but trapped within Sans' shirt. But then, it seemed as if tiny little specks of pale blue light began to slowly find their way through the threads and into the air. Just a few pinpricks of light and they didn't go very far. The tiny light specks stayed just above Sans' chest as if waiting for something to happen.

Papyrus stared at them in awe. They were glowing so softly and so beautifully that it felt like it would have been a crime to look away. It was like a small bit of Sans' magic had come out to say hello or to thank Papyrus for calming Sans or something and a bit of a warm feeling fell over Papyrus.

A second later, however, they began to float higher separating from Sans completely and heading upward toward the ceiling!

. . . but those . . . belonged to Sans! They should be _inside_ of him! He had to get them back and return them!

Papyrus reached up for them without thinking and the instant he touched them with the tips of his fingers, the specks of light turned orange and disappeared with a _**zap**_ to Papyrus' hand. That shock ran quickly through his body and caused the Skeleton to shudder slightly and for a quick moment, he felt warm. In shock, Papyrus turned his attention back to Sans. The glowing in his chest had died down and he was still. He continued to sleep.

After watching Undyne and Dr. Gaster do it a few times, Papyrus had learned the subtle finesse that went into CHECKING someone. With the same hand that absorbed the light, Papyrus waved over Sans, searching for the information he needed.

What he found caused his chest to tighten and his soul to ache.

Sans only had 3 HP left.


	14. Low Battery

**AN: Hello again, everyone! I really hope that you are all well! Well, here we are again! Another chapter and another step closer to figuring out what exactly is going on! I did originally plan for this chapter to be the catalyst into the BIG IDEA arc of this story, but it's been 20 Days since the last chapter . . . and this was running very long . . . I was on about page 20 when I realized I hadn't even touched the part I'd wanted to . . . so unfortunately, I had to perform another surgery on another chapter.**

 **Just so I know for future reference though: if you were given a choice, would you rather have shorter chapters to read if it meant it would be more frequently updated? Or would you rather wait longer periods of time, but be rewarded with super lengthy chapters? Leave your answers in the reviews!**

 **ALSO! Speaking of reviews! I want to give a special THANK YOU to MachUPB For your incredible endorsement! Thank you for taking the time, not only to read Surpassing Origins, but for your kind words for it! I'm SO glad you enjoyed the book! And I'll be sure to let you know when the next one is out! =^w^=**

 **For those who are still curious as to where to go to find the novel, or for those who have any questions about Sticks and Stones, PLEASE don't hesitate to ask! I try my best to reply to every message and to every review!**

 **Thank you all and I will see you all in the next chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

 **Low Battery**

In the years following the address, it seemed as if the lingering enthusiasm continued to spread.

Even the children of the Underground began to develop games centered around finding, hunting, and fighting humans. The most popular of these was a game called "Monsters and Humans" which is much like a game of tag mixed with Hide-and-Seek. The children will designate one to be the "human" who will find a hiding space. The "monsters" will then search for the "human" and whoever finds them first will initiate a FIGHT. The two will exchange magical attacks until one is hit (because there is no real intent to do any harm, the attacks do no damage to each other). If the "human" is hit, they die and must find a new hiding spot. If the "monster" is hit, they turn to dust and they become the new "human" who must now find a place to hide. And thus, the cycle continues.

The adults of the Underground found the little game charming as well as lucrative. It taught the children the significance of stealth and tracking while simultaneously helping them to hone their magical and combat skills. The game seemed like a lot of fun for the children, especially those who were adept in magical manipulation and evasive maneuvers. Those who were not as agile, however, would spend most of the game as the "human" which seemed to wear on their nerves a bit at times.

The enthusiasm was, by no means, limited to the children. Monsters everywhere discussed with each other just what their plans were for finding and hunting the humans. For some, it became a favorite past time much like fishing or hiking, where for others, it became a competition to see who would be next to find a human.

That same zeal even reached the monsters at the lab. Now that it was known that they would be finding ways to use the souls collected to break the barrier and set everyone free, many of them were even more eager to get to work on the souls.

Even through this, Gaster kept the other monsters at bay, insisting that it was far too dangerous to have them around the souls as well. He emphasized that souls were an unstable substance with unimaginable power that had yet to be harnessed or successfully contained.

He warned his assistants that if the slightest thing were to go awry, it could mean devastation and disfiguration. When the question came up if the crack in Gaster's skull was in result to working with the first soul, the doctor had only nodded and refused to go into details. The others seemed to take that as a sufficient confirmation and they were a little more reserved in their enthusiasm- a little more wary of what working with the souls would entail. Still, they were hopeful that they would be able to have their shot at working up close and personal with the souls.

And so, about two years passed and Gaster continued to work alone.

While many of the monsters seemed to understand and seemed content with the way things were around the lab, there was still a bit of unrest . . . with one assistant in particular.

As he was working on his other projects, it was soon rather obvious that Gaine was a little perturbed and more than a little upset about being left out of the goings on with the souls when that had been made the highest priority by both Gaster and the king. His ears were almost always pinned back against his head as he frowned, glaring at his work, and on the off-chance his tail was visible from underneath his lab coat the others noted just how thick and bushy it seemed as of late: another tell-tale sign of his pent-up frustrations.

More than once, Gaine had been caught muttering to himself about how selfish Gaster was for keeping all of the soul business to himself and that basically, he and the other monsters were only being brought in for busy work when they could all be working with the souls. Not only would they get the work done faster, but when they did find a way to break the barrier, Gaster wouldn't be the _only_ one whose name was attached to the project.

He explained this to the others during lunch one day while they were all gathered in the break room and someone had mentioned his distracted expression. He had received a few nods from the others who saw where his frustrations were stemmed and a few frowned back at him, reserving their thoughts and opting not to voice their opinions on the matter. Though part of them did agree with Gaine, another part understood just why Gaster wanted to keep them away from the souls . . . especially if they were as dangerous as he said they were.

"You're seriously going to buy that crap?" Gaine had scoffed. "Obviously, he was just trying to scare you away from the project to keep you in the dark about what he's doing. And you fell for it like sheep. Think about it! Gaster is supposed to be this genius scientist, right? And he's been working on these souls for _years_ now! Even before the address and the king finally told us what was going on. Gaster had been working on them and keeping it all hushed up and under wraps. Tell me, does that seem right to you? And it looks like the only one who has even been anywhere remotely near the big stuff was his little pet, Serif. Now, doesn't that seem strange?"

"Gaine! Shh, he's right there!" A monster by the name of Ruddard urged, tilting his large head toward where Sans was asleep on the far couch.

"What? It's not like he's listening, the lazy bastard. I'm just saying. How the hell are we supposed to trust either one of them if they've been keeping secrets like that from us. They've been working together to keep us out of it. Not only that, but haven't you guys noticed just how much he gets away with because he's all buddy-buddy with Gaster?"

"Gaine!"

"I'm just saying." Gaine repeated drumming a clawed paw on the lunch table in front of him, "If I tried half the crap he pulls, I would've been out of here _so_ long ago. And so would any of you! Seriously. It's blatant favoritism! And why? Because he's a Skeleton?"

"But S-sans is a hard worker, Gaine." Alphys stuttered around her chopsticks as she blew on her piping hot cup of instant ramen, "He's a-always here early and he's always the last to g-go. Haven't you noticed? He's here all the time. Even on days when-when the r-rest of us have a d-day off. And . . . and recently, he's been out here w-working on other projects just like you . . . j-just like everyone else . . . h-he hasn't b-been around Gaster or the s-souls at all."

"And why the hell are you standing up for him?" Gaine pushes. "You got a thing for him or something? Or are you part of this stupid alliance thing? Look, you wanna try to prove me wrong? Here's a pop quiz for you: What's my first name? What about Maltez' . . . ? Ruddard's?"

Alphys silenced, turning her attention back to her ramen. A slightly nervous look fell over her then.

Gaine shook his head, his ears twitching in irritation as he swirled his drink in his hand like a chemical mixer.

"Yeah . . . I didn't think so. But you know the name 'Sans' right? And why is that? What makes him so special that Gaster's on first-name basis with him?"

"Well, I suppose that's because he was Gaster's first apprentice." Baelin chimed in, her tiny legs crossed as she sat on the chair across from Gaine. She made a gesture that would have been a shrug if she had any arms . . . or shoulders. Instead it was more of a head-tilt of suggestion, "He's been here longer than any of us and he knew Gaster before becoming his apprentice, whereas we were hired on to fill a job. Of course, it's going to cause some differences."

"That's crap and you know it!" Gaine retorted with narrowed eyes. "After all of these years, Gaster hasn't even made an _effort_ to learn our names! That's how much he really cares! So forgive me if I'm not entirely convinced he's keeping us away from the souls 'for our own good.'"

"But . . . S-Sans _isn't_ his first name . . . th-that's just what he prefers."

"Case in friggin' point!" Gaine huffed, "Oh, and to answer your question, Alphys. I have noticed Serif out on the floor with us more often lately. Of course I have, but I'm also sure it's not for the reason you think. It's not 'work' he's doing so much as micro-managing. Don't you get it? He's Gaster's eyes and ears out here. Keeping tabs on all of us to report back to the boss! It's Gaster's way of keeping us all in check. He sends his little bloodhound out to test the waters and do the dirty stuff."

"I-it's not like that, Gaine." Alphys steps in again, "I-I mean . . . it's true that we don't see Dr. Gaster much anymore . . . and it's true that Sans has been out doing other projects with us more often than usual. But that's because the souls are a delicate business. Gaster wants to make sure that none of us are hurt in the process. If he really has been working on this for a long time, then he knows just how dangerous the souls can be. He wants to stabilize the souls before introducing us to them . . . that's all."

From the couch, Sans let out a distressed sound and curled in on himself, but he remained asleep. The others took a second and looked back toward him before turning back to continue their conversation in hushed voices.

"A-as for Sans . . . well, Sans is out here with us b-because he has a n-negative reaction to the souls. He-he was there when Gaster had his-his a-accident. He's seen first-hand w-what they can do . . . B-but ever since that day, he can't stand to be around them . . . They m-make him sick! So Gaster pairs him with us s-so he can c-continue to work without being around the souls!"

To this new information, Gaine's ears perked and stood up. He didn't even bother to hide the sudden interest.

"It does what to Serif?"

Alphys halted, her eyes widened as she turned her attention back to her ramen, which was finally cool enough to eat without blowing. "O-oh . . . n-nothing . . . nothing really. He just s-said that being near the souls d-doesn't sit well with him. H-he says they m-make him feel n-nauseated."

Gaine hummed a little to himself, letting a slight chuckle through as he downed his drink and pushed himself backward from the table in preparation to stand. "Well, go figure. I never would have pegged Serif as the squeamish type. What a lightweight."

The others began to follow suit, gathering their things and collecting their trash. The lunch hour was spent and it was time to get back to work. Even as they made their way back, the tension brought about by Gaine's rant hadn't subsided and a couple of the other monsters turned over their shoulders to look back at Sans a final time as he lay with his back facing toward them.

Alphys was the only one who stayed behind. She still wasn't finished with her ramen and she wanted to quickly eat before going back to work. Five more minutes wouldn't hurt.

"Don't forget to wake Sleeping Beauty over there before you head back." Gaine smirked as he turned to head down the hallway and resume work on his project.

Alphys nodded.

Behind her, curled on the couch, Sans laid motionless, his eyes opened slightly as he listened in and soaked in every word.

Gaine wasn't wrong . . . Though Sans was placed out on the floor mainly to assist the others in their assigned projects and lend a hand wherever he was able, recently, Sans had been assigned other "projects" as well . . . and those projects did revolve around monitoring and evaluating a select few assistants and reporting their actions to Gaster. At the top of that list was Gaine. Gaster had reason to believe that Gaine was a bit disgruntled with how things were being handled at the lab and might even been planning to take things into his own hands. If they weren't careful, he could be the source of some major issues for them. From what Sans was able to hear just then, it seemed as if Gaine might have even been trying to convince the others that Gaster was corrupt . . . could this be the start of a coup?

At least Alphys wasn't falling for it.

"S-Sans . . ." The rookie assistant stammered quietly, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, "H-hey, Sans? It's t-time to get back to work."

Alphys seemed extremely cautious about the way she approached Sans whenever she had to wake him up from his "naps" or if he'd actually fallen asleep. A part of Sans felt a little guilty about that. After all, after that first time when Alphys had been the one to wake him up from a nightmare, he'd thrown her clear across the room with magic. Of course she was going to be cautious after that.

Sans let out a groan, trying to convince her that he'd been sleeping the entire time. He stretched and let out a convincing yawn- convincing only because it was real . . . he was actually pretty tired.

Heh, maybe he _should_ have used that hour to sleep. With his HP messing with him the way it was, it was starting to take a toll on his stamina. Maybe he'd grab some popato chisps or something before heading back to work . . . refill what little HP he had left.

"Sans," Alphys questioned, taking a step backward from where Sans stirred, "Are you okay? You were moaning in your sleep."

Sans pulled himself into a sitting position, keeping his head lowered. "Yeah," He answered solidly, "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks, Al."

"Another nightmare?"

Sans shrugged, "I guess you could say that. Definitely a bit of a headache."

Alphys nodded. "And outside of work? Have you been sleeping okay? Is that why you've been so tired on the clock?"

"I don't remember scheduling an appointment." Sans chuckled, "How about we just get back to it, huh?"

"O-oh . . . Of course. I-I'm sorry."

"Eh, it's alright."

As Sans gathered his things and purchased his bag of chisps, he couldn't help but frown a little to himself . . . was it really that obvious that he hadn't been sleeping well lately that Alphys felt she needed to comment on it?

Well, even if he had been sleeping through the night, it wasn't as if it would do him much good. Or at least not as much good as it would have done anyone else. When Sans' HP had fallen to 3, Papyrus had been the one to break the bad news and even though he could sense that Papyrus really wanted to help, there was nothing he could really do. The taller Skeleton had tried to be encouraging and supportive as Sans sat contemplating what could possibly be happening. At the time, Sans hadn't been able to hear Papyrus' words. His mind was clouded and dark as he thought it over, trying to readjust the information in his head in a way that made sense.

Was he dying? Is that what was going on? He didn't feel sick or anything . . . So why was his HP slipping away. He supposed it would have been different if it was just a drain in his regular HP. That way, he would be able to recover it and live a relatively normal life . . . but no . . . this was a drain on his Max HP. . . And as far as he knew, there was no way to get that back.

. . . What was going on?

Sans began to think more deeply on the matter. When did the soul sapping start? Why did it only seem to happen at certain times? It wasn't exactly a constant thing . . . nor did it happen at specified intervals. What were the conditions that lead to it?

Sans only started paying attention again when Papyrus mentioned telling Gaster.

"oh . . . no, I don't think that's such a good idea, paps." Sans had groaned, still very shaken and still very tired, despite just having slept through the entire night . . . Even with the nightmare. "you see, the doc . . ." Sans scrambled, trying to find a decent excuse, "well, he's a busy guy. you know, with all the work he's been doing on the souls and all."

"All the more reason to tell him what's going on!" Papyrus urged. "Dr. Gaster is the leading expert in matters to do with the soul! If anyone can help you with yours, it would be him, wouldn't it?"

Sans laughed sarcastically, "yeah, the leading expert who has yet to find anything notable. the guy's grasping at straws. has been for years. what would the point be?"

"We have to do something!" Papyrus argued back, "ANYTHING is better than watching your life slip away piece by piece!"

The urgency and passion behind Papyrus' words caught Sans off guard. He was genuinely concerned for him and his well-being. Sans could count on one hand how many people he cared for like that . . . Or who cared about him . . . And Papyrus was one of them.

Gaster was the only other.

But ever since the king's address, Sans had really left Gaster alone. He supposed even for the two of them, there were just some things they would never be able to agree on.

It was a stupid thought, but since that day, just being around Gaster had started to make Sans nervous. There had been no change in the man at all. Everything was exactly the same . . . Except the way Sans perceived him.

Maybe that had to do with the souls too, or maybe just his own . . .

Sans let out a long breath, pushing all that aside as the ringing of Papyrus' voice echoed in his own mind.

He had to suck it up. Put aside his own unsolicited apprehension and paranoia in order to heed to Papyrus'.

"alright, bro . . ." Sans conceded through a defeated tone, "you win . . . we'll go see gaster."

From that day onward, just like Sans had been worried about, Gaster was starting to monitor him even more closely while they were off the clock, requiring CHECKS once a day, asking constant and invasive questions, even so far as to team up with Papyrus to make sure Sans was sleeping through the night and not losing any more HP in his sleep.

Sans was required to keep a journal, monitoring himself and the way his body was responding to having such little HP. It was the lowest Max HP Gaster had ever seen. Even newborns had at least 10 while their magic was still building and manifesting itself.

. . . There was something very wrong with Sans . . . And until they could figure out what or why, they had to "stabilize" him . . . They had to figure out what his new normal was.

Sans hated it. He hated feeling like he was terminally ill or something. Like everyone was just waiting around for him to keel over and die at any second.

Even Alphys, as she stood there asking questions . . . Almost like she . . . was . . .

"gaster put you up to this, didn't he?"

Immediately, Alphys noticed the darker and more serious tone to Sans' voice as he glared downward toward his feet, the chisps clutched in his hands. Suddenly, Sans was upset about something. What was he even thinking about?

"U-up to what? Sans . . . w-what are you talking about?"

"he told you to talk to me, didn't he? he wanted you to check up on me."

"W-w-why w-would G-Gaster ask me to-to d-do that?"

"don't even try to deny it, al. you're a _terrible_ liar." Sans glared, turning his attention to the lizard at his side, "you won't even look at me and your stuttering is worse than ever."

Alphys, with her head hung, adjusted her glasses as she shot a quick look up to Sans.

"He-he's just really worried about you, that's all."

"did he tell you _why_ he was asking you to spy on me?"

Alphys vigorously shook her head. "J-just to keep an eye on you and alert him if anything changed."

Sans shook his head now, a deep frown on his face. This was exactly what Gaine had been talking about. Curious mind or not. . . this was bordering on indecent. Sans had a right to privacy at least, didn't he? Why did Gaster have to know what he was doing every moment?

"you know . . ." Sans said dully, "i think i'm gonna use some sick time. all of a sudden, i'm not feeling quite up to staring at blueprints for another four hours."

"B-but . . . But Sans . . ."

"feel free to report this to the doc. don't forget to mention the part where his constant and completely invasive snooping was discovered."

Sans shoved his hands in his pockets and skulked off toward where the elevator was. He kept his gaze lowered and his eyes narrowed.

"Sans, wait!" Alphys called after him, rushing to catch up.

Sans stopped and Alphys stopped right behind him.

"It wasn't just Gaster who asked me to watch over you."

"heh, listen to that. 'watch over'." Sans scoffed, "like you're my friggin _mom_ or something."

"Sans, please. Papyrus is really worried about you too. He told me you weren't feeling well, that you haven't been sleeping well . . . and that you could be in some real trouble if you work yourself too hard. You need to take care of yourself, Sans . . . for his sake."

Sans' glare seemed to lighten up a little as he listened. Papyrus too? When would the two of them have even had the time to meet up with one another?

"Papyrus really loves you, Sans. He just wants you be okay."

Sans nodded slowly, letting out another long breath. When he spoke again, a little bit of the edge had waned and his tone was a little less heavy, "All the more reason to get some real rest in, don't you think? Maybe i'll go check in with gaster myself and then we'll see about the rest of the day. Good luck on your project, okay?"

Alphys nodded in turn, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Thank you, Sans."

And with that, Sans turned the corner toward the elevators to go check in on Gaster . . . or rather check in _with_ Gaster . . . or maybe it was both.

"damn, it seems like everyone has something wrong with them huh?" Sans muttered to himself as he pushed the "down" button.

* * *

Papyrus really was trying his best to take care of his brother, no matter what that would entail. The problem was that Papyrus really had no idea what he was supposed to do. What did brothers need? What did _anyone_ need to be taken care of? Food? Sleep? To feel productive? Purpose? A sense of accomplishment? How many of these things could Papyrus give to Sans?

Especially with the looming scare of his HP slipping away.

Well, he could do one thing. He could be better prepared to protect Sans if there was ever a situation that would call for it.

Afraid for his brother's life, Papyrus decided to make good on that plan he was so set on earlier. One night, after Sans was sleeping, Papyrus quietly dressed and left the lab, his sights set on Waterfall and his thoughts set on finding Undyne. If he was going to protect Sans, whether it be from the humans or his own nightmares, Papyrus would have to get stronger. He knew no better person to help him with that than Undyne.

He waited outside of Undyne's house all night, even after she closed the door in his face . . . It was past midnight after all. She told him to go home, but Papyrus refused. Not until she agreed to train him so he could join the Royal Guard too. Papyrus never said his reason for wanting so badly to join the Royal Guard. But he remembered vividly what Sans told him when the two of them talked it over. He told Papyrus not to train because of him, but because it was what Papyrus wanted to do. And Papyrus supposed that this fell into the category of both. He _wanted_ to train. He _wanted_ to join the Royal Guard. He _wanted_ to become stronger because he _wanted_ to protect Sans in any way he could.

He never said any of this out loud. He never said it to Undyne even after she found him still waiting outside her door the next morning and, after seeing his complete devotion and dedication, she agreed to train him.

And he never told Sans.

When he wasn't training with Undyne, Papyrus found other ways to help Sans. He noticed that his brother still wasn't sleeping very well and he wanted to find a way to help with that as well. After a while of studying him, Papyrus learned that Sans tended to get even more drowsy than usual when he read over the paperwork at the end of the day. On more than one occasion, Papyrus would have to lift Sans from the desk and place him to rest on the mattress after he fell asleep while reading.

Papyrus decided to use this quirk to his advantage. Undyne mentioned, during one of their training sessions, that while fighting an enemy, the easiest way to bring them down was to find their weakness and use it against them. If it worked on enemies, why shouldn't it work on his brother as well? In this case, Papyrus wasn't fighting his own enemy, but Sans'. And he would find a way to rid his brother of his terrors by any means necessary. And after a while of trying, Papyrus finally seemed to find a routine that worked well for both of them.

Once a week, Papyrus would go to the Librarby to check out a new book. Then, every night that week, after his training with Undyne and after Sans was off of work, Papyrus would sit on the bed and pressure Sans into reading the book to him before going to sleep. Of course, Sans would oblige every time. As perpetually exhausted as he was now, Sans would only ever get partially through the book before he would drift off. The nights he would read to Papyrus, he actually tended to sleep pretty soundly and nightmare-free.

Most of the time.

But even Papyrus, as attentive as he was, was unable to be with Sans all the time. While he was out training with Undyne or finishing his map, someone had to be looking after Sans. Papyrus noticed that while he was out and working out, his own HP would drain because of the work and effort he put into doing a good job and to keeping up with Undyne. If Sans was working as hard in the lab, then his HP would drop in no time! And if his HP dropped too low while he was still working, he could potentially die . . . Papyrus couldn't allow that to happen.

One day, after the others had gone and Alphys was the only one left, Papyrus approached her as she was packing up to head home.

It took a moment or two, but eventually, Papyrus was able to find the right words to say to ask Alphys for her help. He asked for her to keep an eye on Sans. He explained that Sans was in a situation that required their help and that he would never ask them for that help, so it was up to them to give it to him . . . even he didn't come out and ask for it. At first, Alphys shrugged. Dr. Gaster had already asked her the same thing. To monitor Sans' behavior and report it to him. She already felt a little strange snooping on Sans at Gaster's request . . . but Papyrus too . . . Just what was wrong with Sans that it meritted both of them to come to _her_ of all people for help?

Did it have to do with that thing she'd overheard that day . . . about Sans' HP?

"Please, Miss Alphys." Papyrus pressed for the tenth time, "He likes you the best of everyone . . . and quite honestly, so do I. As his friend, please help."

Eventually, at Papyrus' persistence and dedication to his brother's health, Alphys had agreed.

For a while, Papyrus' system seemed to work very well. Even after he and Sans had agreed to having separate rooms. At first, Papyrus seemed a little apprehensive about the idea. It would make it a bit more difficult to keep an eye on Sans and make sure he got to bed at a decent time. And if Sans did have nightmares, Papyrus wouldn't be able to get to him nearly as quickly, but he understood that Sans needed his own space. And in all honesty, so did Papyrus. That tiny room was starting to become cramped with the two of them in there.

But even after Papyrus had moved out and into a room a little further down the hallway, the routine still seemed to be working. Sans would still read stories to Papyrus and, even through his best efforts, he would end up falling asleep on Papyrus; his energy and his stamina would be completely spent. Papyrus would take Sans back to his room and get him to bed where he would sleep through the night.

Looking around the room on one such occasion, Papyrus noticed some things slightly different. There seemed to be a bit more room to move around and it looked as if Sans was being a little more organized with his clothing and his belongings. Even the sheets on his bed were stretched over the mattress in a way that actually made a little bit of sense! The only thing . . . was that pile of trash in the corner. He really should do something about that. The pile was steadily getting larger.

The desk was cleared and Sans' paperwork had been straightened up and filed away and the folders he had been using were piled neatly on the corner of the desk. Papyrus was genuinely surprised at the sight. But at least Sans was _trying_.

And for now, that would just have to do.

* * *

Even after all of the systems were put into place, and as time passed, it still didn't look as if Sans was getting any better. Even on the days when Sans would be able to sleep, he would still wake drowsy and lifeless. He would go to work as usual and do his best to assist Dr. Gaster and the others as best he could. He saw less and less of Gaster and more and more of the other assistants. Sans grew accustomed to Gaster working alone and came to anticipate other assignments. It didn't take a genius to know Gaster was working more on the souls just like the others had suspected . . . not that it was a secret anymore . . . and part of Sans was grateful that Gaster opted not to include him. Whether the decision had stemmed from his reaction at the address, or his disapproval to Gaster's dangerous experiments with the souls, Sans didn't know.

What Alphys said before about the souls making him sick . . . well, it wasn't _entirely_ true . . . but she wasn't completely wrong either. It wasn't a real physical illness that was brought about by being near the souls . . . even though, at times, it did feel like it. Being anywhere near the souls caused Sans' own soul to vibrate harshly in his chest. His breath would become shallow and his chest would feel tight. It wasn't due to anything that the souls were doing. More, it was a product of Sans' own anxiety regarding them. It was a truly taxing cycle, so it was just better for Sans to be as far away from the souls as possible.

Most of Sans' energy those days went into keeping up his appearances, cracking a well-placed pun every once in a while and making it seem as if he had more energy than he actually did. Of course, if Gaster had been around, he would have been on to him from the start. Puns were Sans' defense mechanism. How he dealt with his own struggles and made light of the storm going on inside his own thoughts. It wasn't a new thing and many of the monsters were reminded of a time when it seemed all Sans did was tell terrible puns in an attempt to make someone _anyone_ laugh, but that had been years ago!

Now, it seemed as if that side of Sans was back with a vengeance, slipping just as many puns and just as many terrible jokes as before . . . if not more.

And even if the other monsters didn't quite catch _why_ Sans put on the act, they all did take notice of other things that seemed to be plaguing the Skeleton. Sans was noticeably beginning to lose his energy, mirth, and spark earlier and earlier in the work day. And by the time the lunch hour rolled around, Sans was running on empty. Instead of food, he would often spend his hour sleeping. And on the worst of these days, he wouldn't even make it back to work until another thirty minutes or an hour later than that. If the others were able to wake him at all, he would either fall asleep again within a minute or, if he made it back to his project, he would doze off in the middle of a task.

Once or twice, the result of this was nearly catastrophic. Beakers of unknown or corrosive solutions would overflow while he was mixing ingredients or he would leave the Bunsen burner going. Once, while he was teetering with his awareness and flirting with sleep while he was helping with a project, he dropped a glass petri dish of an unidentified mold, causing thick black spores to erupt from the growth. The entire wing had to be shut down and he and Ruddard had to be quarantined for the entire night while the rest of them figured out whether or not the spores the two of them inhaled were toxic.

News traveled that perhaps Sans was no longer fit to work in the lab- that maybe the job had finally gotten to him. Whether it was out of concern or out of spite, the other assistants decided it was best to voice their opinions on the matter directly to Dr. Gaster. After all, since Gaster had been working alone on most of his projects lately, he had not witnessed the decline in Sans' productivity. Or how dangerous he had become to himself as well as the others.

One day, while travelling the halls, Gaster was approached by two of his assistants. He recognized them as Gaine, the tall cat-like monster and Maltez, the shorter monster whose eyes were wide and seemingly unblinking.

"Good afternoon, Gentlemen," Gaster greeted with a tilt of his head. "Shouldn't you two be working on your assignments? Gaine, you were with Sans today, weren't you? Where is he?"

"Actually, Dr. Gaster," Gaine responded, unable to hide the slight smirk to his expression. "That's why we wanted to talk to you."

Gaster raised a brow. "Is that so?"

Gaine and Maltez nodded in unison. "You see," Maltez continued, "Recently, Serif has been . . . lethargic. He's absent-minded, delirious, and dreary. He's falling asleep on the job and taking long lunches. Sometimes, we are unable to wake him at all. Many of us are starting to worry. It's truly concerning and we're afraid something terrible may happen if this keeps up."

Gaster let his eyes close as he took in the information. When the assistants were finished, he nodded slowly. "I see. And you thought it was best to bring it to my attention?"

Maltez nodded, "Serif is one of us. If he's not well, we want to make sure the right people know."

"How very noble of you both. And here I thought you were here merely to tattle."

At the time, Gaster had shrugged with a bit of a smile, but the smirk in Gaine's expression fell slightly nonetheless. It was a pointed jab at the assistant and his underlying intent. Of course, Gaine had expected Gaster to think along those lines. After all, Serif _was_ the doc's little pet. Any negativity toward him would be seen as an attack, especially if it came from him . . . which was why Gaine thought it best to bring Maltez along.

"No, Sir." Maltez chimed, playing his part brilliantly. "Of course not. We were just worried and thought you would like to know."

Gaster nodded again, "And where is he now?"

"In the break room." Gaine answered with a single hand in his pocket as he clutched his clipboard to his side. "We haven't been able to wake him for the past two hours. This is the longest he's ever been out."

Gaster let out a breath and his mouth shut to a thin slit as he seemingly contemplating the next course of action. Perhaps Sans' decline was something he'd been expecting.

"Take me to him."

Gaine and Maltez nod again in unison and turn to lead Gaster through the halls.

In the wide and brightly lit room past the atrium, on the couches furthest from the door, past the tables, a single monster lay curled on his side with his back facing the door.

Gaine and Maltez had long-since given up on trying to wake him and have left him alone. Now, Baelin and Ruddard stood over him while Alphys tried to gently shake him awake or sit him up in hopes of getting him to respond. Of course, none of her efforts were doing any good. Sans was still unresponsive.

As Gaster approached, the others were sure to give him room and when he touched Alphys on the shoulder, she flinched in surprise, shooting a quick look over her shoulder. Doctor Gaster gave her a curt nod and immediately, Alphys moved aside.

Everyone stood around in a wide semi-circle as Gaster leaned over. The doctor examined his assistant, trying to assess the cause of this . . . whatever this was. If the others were unable to wake Sans . . . what did that mean? He hadn't turned to dust . . . so that was a good sign, right?

Sitting the smaller Skeleton up and supporting him in one arm, Gaster laid the other hand atop his skull. He focused his magic intently in that hand and sent a small bit of that magic through Sans' sleeping form.

He hadn't done anything like this in decades. It was a technique Gaster had developed in order to gently wake Corbel when he had troubling nightmares. After the boy passed, he'd even used it once or twice to ease Nyala's soul and get her to rest when she wasn't able to find it on her own.

Essentially, what he was doing was searching Sans' body for his magical signature. Each monster had their own frequency and Gaster would atune to that signature, boosting it with his own and gently coaxing them awake. Or, in the case of the reverse, he would calm the magic and soothe the soul to relax the target monster and lull them to sleep.

The others stood around, trying to contain their curiosity. The closest any of them had ever seen to this was healing, but this . . . this was different.

After a few moments had passed, a bit of a frown passed over Gaster's face.

Something in Sans made him difficult to synch with. The magic within Sans was extremely faint and it felt like it could have been a burning ember, barely grasping on to the last dregs of heat before being snuffed out completely. Just that thought alone was enough to frighten Gaster and shake his nerves, but even beyond that, there was another issue. Even after Gaster had been able to locate the dimming glow of Sans' magic, it felt . . . somehow . . . distant. Like he wouldn't be able to reach it no matter how much he reached for it. It was almost like something was blocking the magic from his persuasion.

What the hell . . . ?

It took a bit longer than Gaster would have wanted, but eventually, he was able to match his own frequency to Sans' and within a few minutes of that moment, Gaster had been able to boost that frequency enough that it caused a difference in the Skeleton in his arms.

At first, it was just a twitch of the finger, then a change to his expression as he frowned deeply through the transition. Eventually, Sans let out a groan as his whole posture changed. He rolled his shoulders back in a stretch as he drew in a long breath, letting it out as a yawn.

The other assistants allowed themselves to breathe and it turned into a general collective sigh of relief.

That caught Sans' attention immediately. What the hell?

He opened his eyes into slits. Why was everyone gathered around him . . . ?

What was Gaster doing here . . . ?

Why was Gaster holding him like a child . . . ?

Why did he feel so warm? It was usually just above freezing in the break room.

"Hey, guys . . ." Sans groaned, stifling another yawn, "What's going on? What'd I miss?"

That warm feeling steadily dissipated as he felt himself wake up more and more. All of it seemed to be migrating to the top of his head until, finally, a hand was lifted and it was gone completely.

Wait . . . so did that mean . . . why was he being _healed_?

"gaster?" Sans asked slowly when no one answered, "What happened?"

"Sans." Gaster answered evenly as he released his assistant and stood completely. "I need you to come with me to my office. Can you stand?"

"'course." Sans answered, already shifting to comply. Instantly, he noted that his legs were not nearly as obedient as he wanted them to be and they almost gave out on him as he stood.

Why the heck was everyone staring at him?

And what was with that look Alphys was wearing? Like she'd turned in a red ribbon science fair project when she'd been hoping for blue.

"Good." Gaster nodded as he led the way past the others and toward the door, "I'm afraid this is urgent."

Sans followed, his confused frown never letting up. It wasn't until he caught a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall that a bit of the puzzle fell into place.

Had it really been three hours since they'd gone on their lunch break!? Oh, damn . . .

And no one had waken him up!? Why didn't they wake him up before going directly to Gaster?

As he passed, he noted the slightly smug look in Gaine's eye, subtle enough, but still there . . . Of course it was Gaine.

The trip to Gaster's office was silent. The doctor didn't utter a single word as he led the way and Sans was left to wonder what was in store for him. Gaster said that it was urgent. That alone was enough to leave a bit of a bitter taste in Sans' mouth and all he could do was speculate.

It wasn't until they'd made it to the office and after Gaster had closed and sealed the door behind them that there seemed to be any change. Gaster lowered his head as he made his way to his desk, behind pillars of paper and took a seat. He let out a steadying breath.

"Please, Sans." He sighed, "Have a seat."

With a quick look around, Sans quickly tried to analyze the situation.

Gaster didn't just lock the door. He completely _sealed_ it. Nothing was getting in or out unless he said so . . . That included sound as well . . .

This was serious.

Sans decided to play it off. Some distant part of him thought that maybe if he could make light of it at all, it wouldn't be so bad.

"Nah, doc." He shrugged, though his expression hadn't changed much. "I'm good."

Gaster was studying him now as he leaned his elbows on the desk in front of him. His hands were clasped in front of him and his eyes were focused intently on him.

"Suit yourself." Gaster nodded. He seemed to be contemplating what he wanted to say. Or rather, _how_ he wanted to say what he needed to.

This entire thing wasn't sitting well with Sans. He really didn't like the look Gaster was giving him or the mild hesitation in his words. And the fact that he hadn't dropped the professional authoritative air even after the door had been sealed didn't help improve the mood at all.

Eventually, Gaster lowered his clasped hands to the desk and he let out another long breath.

"How long have you worked for me, Sans?"

The question caught Sans slightly off guard and he tilted his head slightly. This had to do with his employment?

"doc . . . ?"

"Just answer the question."

"Um . . ." Sans shrugged, "About seven- maybe eight years now . . . ? wait . . . doc, you're . . . not going to fire me, are you?"

Gaster hung his head, breaking eye contact with the subordinate.

That was confirmation enough. But . . . Gaster COULDN'T fire him, could he!? He hadn't done anything . . . _really_ bad, right? Maybe if he'd been a little more alert . . . or if he hadn't dropped that petri dish . . .

Sans felt his heart sink. This was happening all because he fell asleep!? All because he was tired!?

"doc, no! I mean, i know that i've goofed up a bit recently, but you know me better than that, right!? you know I can still do this job!"

"Relax, Sans." Gaster sighed, "I'm not going to fire you. You've never given me reason to doubt you. You've been diligent and hard-working and I doubt that this place would be anywhere near where it is without you. I know several projects that would never have been completed if not for your help."

Sans lowered his gaze, still contemplating.

"Then . . . where are you going with this, gaster?"

"In all that time, have you ever taken time off? A vacation? And not just scheduled days off when the lab was closed. Because I've seen you work straight through the closures before. Have you ever just taken a break?"

Sans thought it over for a few moments. In all of the time he'd been living at the lab and helping Gaster, there really had been no desire to go anywhere. And if he wasn't going anywhere, may as well be productive, right?

"Well, maybe not. But that's okay! I'm fine!"

"No, Sans . . ." Gaster hesitated, musing over the information, "You're really not . . . Eight years . . . Such a long time. I'm sorry, Sans. I'm sorry I didn't see it sooner."

Sans frowned, "See what now?"

"Just now, in the break room. What do you think just happened?"

Sans shrugged. "I fell asleep. That's all . . . I . . . didn't wake up on time, and I'm sorry about that, but—"

Gaster shook his head solemnly, "Sans, you really have no idea, do you? You can't feel it?"

"Feel _what_!? gaster, what are you talking about!?"

Gaster unclasped his hands and raised a palm toward Sans. Sans noted that the hole in Gaster's hand seemed a bit larger now than it did the last time he saw the doctor.

Sans knew what was coming and he inwardly groaned, dropping his hands to his sides, as not to hinder the inspection.

"Fine just go ahead." Sans answered.

But when Gaster CHECKED him this time, what they saw nearly stopped them both. Gaster flinched, his fingers curling slightly and Sans' expression fell even more, his heart bottoming out somewhere in his gut.

Sleeping Is rumored to be able to restore HP beyond the Max limit. When Alphys had told Gaster that Sans was choosing to sleep during his lunch breaks instead of eating meals, Gaster expected that to be the reason. It was kind of ingenious, actually. That way, he would be able to continue work without so much worry.

But after three hours of sleep, with such a low Max, he should be much higher than 0.5/3. Shouldn't he?

"what the hell?" Sans muttered, "that doesn't make sense."

"You weren't sleeping in the break room today. Sleep might have been your intent, but . . . the others tried for _hours_ to wake you when it was time to resume work. And they told me that not one of them was able to get you to respond. I had to step in as a last resort, but even I couldn't . . . Sans, we nearly lost you today. When I tried to wake you . . . what I could feel of your magic. Sans, it wasn't good."

Sans' eyes went dead. "what did you see?"

"Don't worry," Gaster answered, releasing Sans' stats and letting his hand rest again on the desk in front of him. His eyes were lowered to stare intensely at the wood. "I was only looking to help boost your magic to wake you up. I know better to search for something so private as another monster's soul. But we're getting off point. Sans, your magic is nearly completely spent. If the others hadn't come to find me when they did, I doubt you would have survived the day."

Sans felt his hands tighten into fists as he clutched at the hems to his coat. Suddenly that offer to sit sounded a lot more inviting. Sans made his way to one of the two chairs across from where Gaster sat, taking the seat and letting the news sink in.

Once he was seated, Gaster continued. "Of course you know that a monster's soul and a monster's magic are not interchangable, though they are directly linked. You know that as we sleep, it is our magic that restores our HP, right?"

Sans nodded.

"Our magic fuels our souls like a battery . . . and if that battery dies . . . so do we." Gaster raised his eyes to once again watch Sans.

"Eight years . . ." Gaster repeated, "You've been working for eight years straight and in that time, I've almost completely drained you . . . Sans . . . I'm so sorry I never noticed. Right now, your magic is so low. And it had nearly gone out completely today in the breakroom. And if you are trying to use what little magic you have, to refill your HP, that's a surefire way to run yourself into an early grave. You're still so young, Sans. This world needs you around for a while longer at least. But unfortunately, you realize that I cannot allow you to keep working in your condition. Until we can find a way to stabilize not only your HP now, but your magic as well, and find a way to regulate it so that you know how to prevent future episodes like what happened today, you cannot continue to work. It carries far too much risk."

Sans hung his head. So he was being fired . . . just not in those words. Perhaps "let go" was better, "laid off"?

"I really am very sorry," Gaster continued, "but effective immediately . . . your employment here is suspended. Until we can figure this out, I don't want to see you working on anything that has to do with this lab or the projects here. In fact, I don't want to see you here during work hours."

There it was.

"Suspended . . ." Sans repeated the word out loud in a low voice. "But . . . I can't go." He argued, his tone not rising above a mutter, like perhaps, he was speaking more to himself than to Gaster, "I need this job. If I can't . . . then I . . . I have nowhere else to go."

"Now, I can't see that being true at all." Gaster answered with a bit of a shrug. As serious as the conversation was, there was a bright side to it. Now, just to get Sans to see it too. "Surely you had hobbies and friends before you came here. Haven't you been in contact with them? If not, you should rekindle those friendships. Find time to catch up. Sound familiar?"

Sans sighed. It was the same speech he'd been giving Gaster for years, trying to get him out of the lab. The last thing he'd expected was to hear it repeated back at him. The difference here, being that Gaster was Sans' boss with the power to suspend him from work. After today, after he left this room, whether or not he wanted to, he wasn't allowed to ignore the direct order and return to work like Gaster had done every single time Sans had given him the speech.

"Cheer up, Sans." Gaster tried again, fishing for something in his desk. "Look at it this way. What we're doing is giving you the opportunity to rest. Let your magic recharge. Once you're feeling up to it, we'll bring you back on board. What this really is, is a vacation. But if we were to call it that, I know at least one person who would be a little upset. If what you told me is true, Gaine seems to be suspecting favoritism, is that true?"

When Sans looked back up to Gaster, the doctor was wearing a small smile. In his fingers, he held a couple of small candies. After all, Sans was still at 0.5 HP. And if he was unable to rely on his own magic to heal him, he would have to use food as a supplement . . . at least until he could build up his own magic again.

Sans nodded as he reached out to accept one of the hard candies, "that's what he said."

"So, after what happened today . . . after what's been happening recently . . . if you're on 'vacation' or even on a 'medical leave of absence,' I'd never hear the end of it . . . but if you were 'suspended' it might calm him down a bit."

Sans couldn't help the smirk that pulled at him then. He gave Gaster a slow clap of approval, "Good one, doc." He said with a bit of a chuckle, "Very clever."

"Of course that also means that you will be unable to continue your surveillance of him and whatever prosepects he might be seeking. What we'll need is someone who can continue for you while you recover."

Sans shook his head with a little bit of a smile that hadn't been there before, "So, not only are you suspending me, but now you want to replace me too? And you want me to pick my own replacement? How am I supposed to feel about that?"

Sans opened the candy, a hard raspberry carbonated confection that immediately started to fizz in his mouth. But aside from the strange sensation, Sans did notice the magic at work inside of him. And within seconds, his HP had been maxed out.

Gaster took the other candy for himself, and made short work of the wrapper before eating his as well. The effect wasn't nearly as dramatic for him and it only filled up a small portion of his HP, but it tasted good, if nothing else.

"Don't be ridiculous." Gaster scoffed, relieved that the mood had finally shifted. "In a way, it's a lot like choosing your own apprentice. Say you were in my shoes and you were looking for someone to help you in your work. Someone you can trust to carry on for you when you can't be around. You have your list of candidates and you know their strengths and weaknesses. Who do you think will be the best suited for the job?"

Sans quieted for a second, thinking it over. After a moment or two, the answer seemed to be clear. They were all good candidates and they were all great workers, he could really only trust one of them.

And judging by the rolled up blueprints and abnormally large binder pushed off to the corner of Gaster's desk, he was thinking along the same lines.

"Why do I get the feeling you've already chosen and you just wanted some kind of confirmation from me before you went through with it?"

Gaster followed Sans' gaze to the blueprints, "You really are very observant."

Sans nodded, "I'm sure she'll be great. Just . . . don't tell her it's a secret. You should present it to her like a regular project. She's really terrible at covert operations."

Gaster chuckled to himself, shaking his head and letting his eyes slide shut for a moment.

"Noted."

"Well, if there's nothing else, I really should get a jump on being 'suspended'. Maybe I'll take Paps over to Grillbys and see what's goin' on over that way."

Sans sighed as he stood and shoved his hands in the pockets of his kakhi slacks. He turned toward the door as another thought entered his thoughts.

"Is there any way to know whenabouts I'll be allowed to come back?"

"How about you focus on something besides coming to work for a while. You need to focus on you and _then_ we'll see about bringing you back."

"Evasive and nondescript as usual. What happens if I can't come back? What happens if this is something that can't be fixed?"

Gaster stood as well with a bit of a sigh of his own. The thought had crossed his mind before, but there was no use in dwelling on that when they hadn't tried everything yet.

As he crossed back to the other side of the room, to unseal the door for Sans, he brought the remainder of the bag of candy over with him. Sans would get more use out of them than he would.

"IF there is no reversing this." Gaster answered, handing off the bag of candy, "IF this happens to be your new normal, and that is a big 'if', then, that will be something we will work with. But that means that you will have to adjust too. Is that something you would be able to handle?"

Sans shrugged. "I'll have to."

With that, Gaster unsealed the door. Leading Sans out.

"Now, I'm sure you'll get a lot of questions after that exit."

"Don't worry, doc. I can handle it." Sans answered smoothly with a bit of a smirk. For a bit of an added effect, he removed his lab coat and handed it off to Gaster along with his keycard. He'd get them back from him later . . . maybe. "As of this moment, I'm officially on suspension."


	15. Purple

**AN: Um, Wow, guys! Welcome back! It's been about a month since the last update, hasn't it? Geez. I'm sorry about that. In that time, so much has happened including a title change! I've changed the name of this fic from "Sticks and Stones to Break the Bones" to something I thought would be a little more relevant: "The CORE of the Matter" But hey, to make up for the time and the confusion, here's a nice lengthy juicy chapter for you! Before we get started on that, though, I'd like to address one or two update/ housekeeping things.**

 **First, as always! Thank you so much for everything, guys! It really is a lot of fun to come back and update knowing you are here to read and enjoy! It's always amazing to see what you guys have to say! And as we approach the inevitable end, I'm just so grateful for all of you who have stuck around!**

 **Speaking of, this story currently has about 88 followers! I'm so happy and excited to be writing for so many people! It's a lot to live up to, and I really hope I'm making the cut! That being said, I do have a goal. A sort of "Thank you" to all my readers! If we can do it! I want to reach 100 followers! If we can make that goal, I have a special art piece I'd be happy to share with you! I'm excited to show you what I've been working on, and we are only 12 followers away! I'll keep you posted on the progress!**

 **Um . . . the other one is really short. I've started a new series! It's my second Undertale fic and it revolves around the final fallen human, YOU! If you haven't already, be sure to check out "A Life in RUINS"**

 **Finally! One more thing before we get started!**

 **WARNING: The following contains strong language, intense situations, Gerson, slight gore, and VERY unhappy Skeletons! Reader discretion is advised. (Also, I've completely given up on editing. Please forgive me. I just don't have the patience for it anymore, I hope you understand)**

 **Now that all that is taken care of, please enjoy chapter 13!**

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

 **Purple**

In the weeks that followed since San's suspension, the other assistants continued on with their assigned projects, working diligently and proficiently, even though it was obvious to most of the others that there was a certain something missing. A certain spark of life that the lab suddenly lacked.

Of course, they were able to get along just fine without Sans, but work had become a bit dull without him, and quite honestly, a bit boring.

The one exception to this was Gaine. He seemed to have acquired a bit more of a cheery disposition now that he felt he didn't have to "deal" with Sans working alongside him, irritating him and distracting him from his job. Gaster had been absolutely correct about him. Once he heard that Sans had been "suspended until further notice" Gaine's mood improved tremendously.

He had no idea that if he were to travel just a few floors down, his elation would have been instantly shattered.

Below the work areas of the lab, Sans seemed to be having trouble adjusting to not having anything to do. The first couple of days proved to be the worst and he would spend nearly the entire day in bed contemplating what he _could_ be doing, making lists and debating with himself if it was worth the energy spent to get it done. About the only thing he found to be worth doing was getting up to find food. And that was usually late in the day or early in the evening when the others had gone home. He would often wait to traverse the upper levels until the others had gone home for the day. With the exception of Alphys, no one from the team knew that Sans actually _lived_ in the lab, and if he had any say in the matter, it would stay that way.

But, of course, that meant remaining hidden from the others. And the easiest way to remain hidden was to stay in his room . . . even if it was starting to drive him up the wall with boredom.

He didn't even have Papyrus to keep him company.

Just like Sans suggested, Papyrus had been keeping himself busy, which, of course, was a great thing. He was busy most of the day training with Undyne and the other members of the Royal Guard. Though he wasn't officially part of the Royal Guard yet, they seemed to have no problem with him tagging along during their workout regimen. During the time he had been training with them, he had effectively been able to boost his physical strength as well as endurance and stamina. And having so many other trainees around, helped to boost something a lot more than that. Sans noticed that Papyrus' confidence and his self esteem had been significantly elevated since he started training. Even though he was the only Skeleton, he was determined to push himself to the absolute limit and prove to himself, to Sans, and to them that he had what it took to be there.

Of course Sans had always known that Papyrus could do anything he set his mind to, but it was genuinely nice to see Papyrus start to believe it as well. It was the highlight of Sans' uneventful day when Papyrus would come back, boasting about the obstacle course he'd completed a full ten seconds faster than last week's time or the way he had been able to hone his magical ability in order to produce new and elaborate attacks.

Sans never went to see the Papyrus' progress in person, but somehow, it was enough just to hear the stories. Papyrus was happy and he was glad to be working toward something and that was enough for Sans.

Even if it did leave him to figure out just what he could do to fill his time. Until now, Sans had had his work at the lab to distract him and to keep him moving, but now that he wasn't even allowed to be around the place during business hours, he was having trouble finding interesting things to do during the day.

He was supposed to be resting. He was supposed to be regaining himself. He was supposed to be getting back to basics. Before his suspension, Gaster mentioned going back to his hobbies . . . well . . .

When the boredom of being holed up under the lab became too much, Sans took to wandering aimlessly around the Underground.

That day, Sans was in the caverns of Waterfall, shuffling his feet and kicking at rocks with his hands shoved firmly in the pockets of his jacket. There was a room somewhere around the place where there were glowing rocks in the ceiling that bore a semblance to stars. If there were a place that could make him feel more like himself, it would be that place, second only to the dump where he enjoyed looking through the things the humans threw away.

But today was more of a stars kind of day.

Sans had always been fascinated by the idea of stars and living a life in which they were right within reach. It was the foolish fantasy of a child, he knew, but to him, it didn't matter. As a kid, the stars had always been a sort of motivation for him. Like, if he just tried hard enough, he would be eventually be able to reach them.

No, these weren't real stars, but they would do . . . for now.

Sans found a good spot near the back of the room where one of the caves came to an end in a smooth door-like stone surface. He sat in this corner of room leaning backward against the wall and staring up toward the unchanging twinkling of the glowing rocks overhead. At first, it was very relaxing to just sit and imagine them being real stars, to be able to chart their movements, to pick out shapes and constellations and approximate just how far away they were. To imagine what it would be like to live on a world out there surrounding one of those stars only to be stargazing there and thinking about what it might be like to live on this world orbiting this star.

. . . The star they didn't even get to see . . . damn the Underground curse . . .

Sans let his eyes drift shut as he let his mind wander. He needed to get back in touch with who he really was- with what made him feel whole. What gave him hope? What motivated him to keep going? And the more Sans thought about what that was, the more he thought about the person he used to be, the more he realized that he missed places like these. He missed being able to sit and wonder what his future held and he missed contemplating and planning for all of the things he still had yet to do. He missed being able to express those dreams to a friend and have them laugh at him for always having his mind out in space.

Once upon a time, there had been friends like that. Companions with whom he would share everything. All of his hopes and aspirations, all of his dreams and musings and theories, all of his fears, all of his secrets. He trusted them. And they had trusted him with theirs.

But that had been before . . .

Before he'd come to live in the lab. Before he became Dr. W.D. Gaster's personal assistant and apprentice.

Before his entire life was uprooted . . . Before his world was shattered.

Before the lid was shut on him and he was left to die.

Before he . . .

Sans frowned, his eyes opening to slits. He couldn't continue thinking like that. He had to keep moving. He had to find some kind of distraction. He thought the stars would help . . . but really, they just reminded him of everything he'd lost. The more he thought about it, the more the stars rekindled old feelings and terrible memories. Thoughts of people and of places he had been trying to avoid for almost a decade.

Working in the lab had been his escape from these suffocating thoughts. There was always something new and unfamiliar to explore. It helped to fill that void. And now . . . he didn't even have that anymore. That had been taken away from him too.

He could feel a headache coming on. Time for a new distraction. Best to keep moving.

Sans pulled himself to his feet, using the wall for support as he stood once again. He kept his head lowered and his eyes trained downward as he contemplated where to go next and what to do.

It was as he stood that he saw it.

A little black rectangle in the corner of the room. A plastic contraption: smooth on the surface with the exception of the scratches along the edges. Sans glared over it, trying to focus enough to see what it was. He stooped over in order to pick it up and examine it, running his skeletal fingers over the surface as he turned it in his hands. Along the rim was a slit in the design and with the very tip of a single distal phalanx, Sans pried the thing open, separating the two halves like a locket and flipping the device open.

Inside, he watched as a set of numbers and a tiny screen seemed to flicker to life! All of the numbers began to glow and the screen gave off a brilliant light as words scrolled past.

"Good morning, Sunshine!" Inched its way across the screen cutting through an artful photo of a quill resting in its inkwell. The text was followed by a digital smile.

Sans had to smile a bit at that as a thought passed fleetingly. It was actually kind of cute that the device would greet the user like that.

Someone had lost their cell phone.

But who's was it?

Sans hummed to himself as he flipped the phone shut and pocketed the thing. He would hold on to it until he could find who lost it. Or maybe he would turn it over to someone nearby who might have seen who dropped it. Or maybe he could call someone in the person's contact list and let them know that the phone had been found and that person could inform the owner.

Yeah, that last option sounded best. But the reception here wasn't that great. If he could get to the dump or somewhere more open, he could probably get a better signal.

But as Sans looked, he noticed that the battery icon in the corner seemed to be on its last little bar of power. He would have to hurry before it ran out.

And so, Sans left the wishing room and immediately tried to find the contact list. He saw that there had been several missed calls and a lot of voicemails left on the person's phone and he had to wonder why this person even bothered having a phone if they weren't going to use it.

Or maybe, it was a friend of theirs, trying to help them find where they'd dropped it.

Most of the missed calls were from the same person. Hmm. Maybe if he tried that number . . .

But the signal still wasn't strong enough.

Sans continued on toward the dump. That place had double the boost, one from the rudimentary towers the monsters created to help them communicate and another because this was one of the few places where was a straight shot to the surface. Even underground, they could connect to the human's communications network. If he wasn't able to get through at the dump, he doubted he would be able to get through at all.

It didn't take long after he reached it for the phone in his pocket to ring . . . but it wasn't quite the classic ringing sound he had been expecting.

Instead, a song began to play and the notes filled the air around him and saturated the area.

It was . . . familiar. A song he hadn't heard in _years_ and one of his favorites from when he was younger.

Hearing it again after so long . . . It gripped at Sans and forced him to stall in his steps. It had been a deep and an incredibly personal song for him for such a long time. And now . . .

That same thought from before flashed in his mind again. "Good morning, Sunshine."

Put in this new context, paired with this particular song, that message was just a little too convenient.

He ripped the phone from his pocket and flipped it open to reveal the name in the contact list. It was such a common name that it didn't even occur to Sans that just maybe . . . it could have been . . .

He accepted the call and placed it to the side of his skull at the tiny hole where it was easiest to pick up sound.

"Oh my God! It's about TIME you actually picked up!" The voice on the other line scolded.

Sans remained silent as he listened.

"Hello!?" The voice asked not receiving the response she was looking for, "Helloooo? Anyone there? Hey, Ava! What the hell, girl! Where are you!?"

By this time, Sans' hands were shaking almost violently as he listened and he nearly dropped the phone. At the sound, his mind completely clouded over and he entered a bit of a fog.

No . . . this couldn't be happening! After so long . . . why on Earth would _she_ be calling? And she was looking for _her_!?

Trying to calm his nerves and his thundering heart, Sans let out a shaky breath. He fought with his own sense and what he should do next . . . should he reveal himself and risk exposure, or should he remain silent and hang up on her? With a cautious look around him to make sure there were no approaching monsters, he came to a decision.

"K-Kara . . ." He answered quietly and through an uncertain voice.

"Hello!?" The other voice snapped in a panic "Who the hell is this!? Where is Ava!?"

Sans had to fight just to draw a decent breath. Of all of the misfortune. Of all of the rotten luck.

"A-Ava's not here." He breathed, still trying to keep his voice lowered in case he was overheard. "I just found this phone. Is it hers?"

"Wait a minute!" The woman on the other line answered.

"Damn it!" Sans growled.

"That voice!"

She _did_ recognize him.

"Holy crap! Is that you!?" And now her voice was even more boisterous and excited and the sound bounced around the empty area.

Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! If someone heard her . . . if they found out he _knew_ the voice on the other side of the line . . .

He would be done for!

Maybe he could retain some deniability if he didn't acknowledge out loud that he knew the voice. And if anyone asked how he knew her name . . . well, that's what caller ID was for, right?

At least, that's what he'd tell them.

"Kara!" He hissed, "Kara, please! Keep it down!"

Of course she didn't listen. She squealed and continued on in full volume. Not only that, but now she was screaming at him at ten times the normal speed.

"I can't believe she actually found you!? How the hell did she manage that!? I told her it was crazy, but she was so damned persistent. Obsessed really. She left the city almost a month ago to go look for you! Took her notebook with her. Said she had somethin' in it she wanted you to read. She was convinced you were trapped or lost or somethin'! I kept tellin' her she was crazy! It was a stupid idea! A suicide mission. But oh my god! I can't believe it! Where the heck have you been this whole time!? Where's Ava?"

Sans had gone silent again. Ava . . . had . . .

And if he'd found her phone . . .

It would have been one thing if he'd found it here in the dump . . . but . . .

It couldn't be . . .

That headache was back as the world began to swirl a bit around him. In moments, he felt dizzy, like he could fall over at any moment. This was different than fatigue, different than the delirium that came when he felt he was about to fall asleep at work. This was messing with his very senses.

Well that was new . . .

"Helloooooo!?" The voice repeated, bringing Sans back to reality and to the present.

"I-I . . . I . . ." He stammered, "There's no one here. I just found this phone." The phone beeped at him then, indicating the battery was about to die.

"Hey . . ." The other voice asked cautiously, finally taking the hint and lowering her tone and her volume, "Are you okay? Where are you anyway? That thing about Ebott was just a joke, right? Always the comic, right?"

Sans chuckled darkly, letting the sound drift off into a low hum. "'Fraid not." He answered.

There was no answer from the other voice. Maybe she finally understood the situation. Maybe she saw just how bad of an idea it was to speak so loudly about this . . . but it was more likely . . .

Sans took the phone down from his skull to examine the dark screen. He tried pressing a button or two and was greeted by the same lack of response.

Yup, the battery died.

Sans could feel this legs shaking again and his fist was trembling as he re-pocketed the phone. Then it really did belong to her . . . to Ava . . .

To his . . .

Why here!? Why _now_!? Why EVER!?

"Damn it, Ava!" He grit through his teeth. As he turned back to head out from the dump.

From that moment on, Sans was on a new mission. He had to find her before . . . before . . .

There was another human lost in the underground and apparently she was wandering around alone . . . not only that, but she'd fallen into Mt. Ebott on _purpose_! She was _here_! Ava was in the Underground somewhere!

And after the King's declaration . . . what he said about the humans . . . every monster in the Underground would be on the lookout for her! They would all be trying to kill her for her soul!

He couldn't let that happen.

Before he realized, Sans found himself running from area to area in search of a sign, or of anyone who might have seen her. He hadn't noticed before, but it seemed as if the roads and walkways were deserted. There was no one out who was available to answer his questions. They must have all headed inside to take shelter. There was a dangerous human on the loose and they had their families to think about after all.

But still, it would have been nice to ask _someone_!

Sans kept running until he was forced to a sudden stop. While turning a corner, he ran headlong into a towering figure in heavy black armor. A long red ponytail erupted from the top of the intimidating helmet like lava from an active volcano.

"Hey!" She sneered, "Watch it, punk!"

"Undyne!?" Sans gasped.

"Oh hey, squirt!" Undyne greeted, never removing her helmet or even lifting the visor, "Look. If this is about sending Papyrus home early, I already told him he couldn't stay today. Something came up! Is that so difficult to get through his thick skull!? You can tell him that if he's got a beef with me, then we can settle it on the training field! But today, I'm busy!"

Sans shook off the confused expression that came over him as Undyne was talking and let the bits of information fall into place.

"Papyrus . . . ? No! That's not why . . . Look. What came up? Is that why there's no one out today? What have you seen?"

Undyne scoffed as she looked over Sans. She noted his frantic expression and the fact that he was panting, struggling to catch his breath. He was in a hurry.

"Sorry, short stuff." She scoffed with a smirk to her tone. "That's classified information. But I will say this. "It'll probably be best if monsters like you hang out inside for a while. Let the Guard do our thing. We'll let you know when it's all clear."

"So there _was_ a human sighted . . ."

Undyne chuckled this time at Sans' conclusion.

"Hey, not bad. You got it even before the official announcement. I guess that's why you were out here, huh? Looking for Papyrus even though there's a vicious human on the loose. Well, like I said, I already sent Papyrus home. So you don't have to worry about him. And you should get going as well before the human shows up again. Tell your brother that I expect to see him bright and early tomorrow morning after we capture this human!"

Something about that phrase stood out to Sans . . . a word that didn't quite fit . . .

"Capture?"

"Yeah, this one's got some super secret special orders or something. We were told _not_ to kill this one for some strange reason. Now, that's enough out of you! Get going, already!"

Sans fought with himself to focus. For such classified information, Undyne sure didn't seem to have a problem sharing it with him.

So they weren't going to kill Ava on the spot when they found her . . . which meant that he still had time . . . He took a moment to gather himself and he was about to rush out ahead of Undyne when he stopped, his hands in fists at his sides.

"You haven't seen them, Undyne . . . ? The human?"

"Oh, no you don't!" Undyne accused, her stern voice resonating from within her armor, "You're not going to capture the human first and take this from me! If I capture this one without killing it, I'll be on the shortlist to being the next captain! Now that old man Gerson has finally retired, the job's wide open! So, I'm gonna be the one to find them and capture them, got it, punk!? Besides, you wouldn't stand a chance even if you tried! This one isn't nearly as easy to take down as the others were! She's a slippery little twerp and she's got this . . . thing where she can hold off taking more than one or two hits of damage in a fight . . . it makes no sense, but she's using that to her advantage and slipping away to avoid capture. In the last battle, she tried to throw her notebook at me before running off. Heh, like that was gonna actually do something!"

"Notebook?" Sans repeated.

"Heh, yeah. This old beat-up looking thing she was clutching onto. Must not have been too valuable if she was willing to get rid of it so easily."

Sans was torn. His path was split. And he considered his options as he looked downward toward his feet, gravely quiet. His shoulders, arms and hands were trembling badly as that swirling headache returned and a tight grip at his chest joined it.

So . . . Ava was still out there somewhere, still fighting . . . and she had taken damage . . .

Before this, none of the other humans had had names . . . nothing for Sans to connect them to. So even though he had to admit to himself that he did somewhat care about what happened to them . . . he didn't care nearly as much about them as he did about _her_. . .She was different . . . She had a name, she had friends who were worried about her . . . she'd had a story to tell.

. . . She had a history he needed to catch up on . . .

"Where is the notebook now?" He asked darkly, "You said she threw it at you, right? Where is it now?"

"Eh, I gave it to Gerson. He loves crap like that." Undyne shrugged, "It's junk though. Can't think of a single person who would even care enough to buy it. But hey. He seems to think there's some value to it."

"And Gerson? Where is he?"

"Where he always is. Why? Are _you_ interested in it or something?"

But Sans wasn't listening. He'd already gone off at a run again, leaving Undyne behind in order to search for the old former Captain.

Sans knew of the Turtle's shop. The side business he ran where he would sell oddities and such. If he had Ava's notebook . . . Then he was his best chance at finding her.

He had to rush through Waterfall and weave through the caves and walkways, past the glowing mushrooms and across the bridge work in order to find the hole in the wall, where Gerson had set up his shop.

As Sans walked in, the first thing he noticed was how difficult it was to see anything. There seemed to be no light at all in the cave except from the sparkle of several overhead stones. Again, Sans was reminded of the stars of the wishing room.

Gerson looked up when he noticed someone walking into his cave. His one good eye was as wide as his grin as he regarded the Skeleton in his doorway.

"Somehow, I had a feeling it would be you. It's about time you showed up." He said from his dark cave, "Why don't you come in?"

Gerson, in his lowered and slightly hunched position waved Sans in and invited him up to the counter. The Turtle monster examined the way Sans walked and how he was still fighting to catch his breath and that he seemed to be running low on stamina. He had been in a hurry for a while.

"If you've got something on you to eat," Gerson suggested, "I suggest you eat it right about now. You don't look to good, there, if you know what I mean."

"You're one to talk, old man." He mumbled. He could feel the lingering frown as he felt for something in his pockets. It took another moment or two before he realized that he'd left the candy Gaster had given him back in the lab.

When Sans looked up again, Gerson was holding out what looked to be a strange-looking fruit with claws and legs and two stems that resembled stalk eyes. It looked like a crab.

"Here, son. Have a crab apple."

For a moment, Sans hesitated as he looked between the apple and the old Turtle. When the moment was over, Sans reached out for the apple, nodding his thanks to Gerson. He pretended not to notice the pointed and lingering look he gave toward the bones of his hand. Or the low hum that came with it when Sans handed over the Gs to pay for it.

Those kinds of looks were not the reason Sans had come to this shop. If he wanted to be studied, he would just go back to the lab and ask Gaster to do it!

Pushing these thoughts aside, Sans took a bite of the apple and immediately felt it starting to work on the edges of his HP. The headache began to subside and his legs felt a little more stable. He wouldn't eat the entire thing now, but enough to keep him from passing out and to make sure he had enough HP to last him until he could complete his mission.

Gerson let out a low chuckle as he sat back at his counter and picked up the large magnifying glass that had been resting atop the surface. He pulled a cloth from the front pocket of his shirt and began cleaning the glass absently.

Sans shifted from one foot to the other in anticipation. What the heck was Gerson stalling for!?

Gerson smirked a little to himself as he noted just how anxious Sans was acting and after another moment or two, he decided it was probably best to cut to the chase.

"Now, I'm guessing you didn't come just for my crab apples." Gerson began, keeping his attention downward on his magnifying glass.

Sans shook his head, shifting back to the other foot, "But you knew that already. Seems to me like you were expecting me to show up or somethin'. What tipped you off? Was it Undyne?"

Gerson laughed, "No, no, nothing like that. You see, there was a young lady who came out this way a while ago. She said she was looking for someone. A friend of hers. I said I would keep an eye out for them. But I suppose, if you wanna know where she went, well, I sent her off to see the king!"

Sans could feel his expression fall. His eyes narrowed as his teeth clenched. His shoulders went stiff as his hands clenched in his pockets.

"You did what!?"

Gerson's laugh became more pronounced as his attention lifted up from his magnifying glass and toward the Skeleton boy in front of him, "Whooo-hoo, boy! That's a face that can burn forests! Look, she's a human. The humans are supposed to be turned over to the king, right? Be happy I didn't turn her over to the Royal Guard! My boys would've made quick work of her. But as I hear it, she's been able to avoid them so far! And who knows, maybe she'll make it all the way to old Fluffybuns! Wa-ha-ha-ha!"

Sans couldn't bring himself to laugh. Not about this. He could barely find it in him to relinquish the scowl in his eyes. But he was able to un-clench his hands slightly. He remained silent.

"Hey, maybe she can negotiate with Asgore. He's a reasonable fellow after all. And besides, it's not like I killed her. But . . . I suppose, if she doesn't reach the king, it won't do her much good either way. Wa-ha-ha-ha!"

Sans' chest tightened at the thought and a low growl escaped as he glared at the old Turtle monster, "I don't see how this is funny."

"No," Gerson chuckled, "I suppose you wouldn't. I guess when you've been around as long as I have, you take your kicks where you can get them."

Sans' frown was unmoving. "Whatever, old man. Undyne said you had something that belonged to . . . the human. Do you have it or not?"

Gerson hummed as he went back to cleaning his glass. His laugh subsided, but his nearly, eccentric smile remained.

"That's the problem with you kids. So impatient. Ever consider that I'm doing you a service by keeping you from reading it for as long as possible?"

"Well, that depends. Are you?"

"That, I am, kid. That, I am. But hey, if you're in such a hurry to see what the human girl wrote. Then here you go."

Gerson shifted as he dug beneath his counter for the item. After a moment or two, he resurfaced and laid a tattered purple notebook down. The edges were frayed and it looked like some of its pages had been ripped out and reinserted in odd spots. Sticky notes had been haphazardly "attached" in seemingly random locations and it looked as if coffee might have been spilled on it once or twice.

The notebook had definitely been through some stuff.

"Be careful with that. It looks like it could tear at any moment."

Right away, even as Sans took the notebook in his hands, that tightening in his chest got worse and a terrible feeling descended over him. Something about it was very familiar to Sans. Even though the apple had refilled his HP, that same dizzy feeling surrounded him once again and he had to fight with himself in order to keep his breathing even.

Pushing through that feeling, Sans fumbled and fished through his pocket to pull out some more G to pay for the notebook as well. He had what he'd come for, now he had to see if he could find a shortcut to the capital. He had to find Ava before someone else did. And now that he'd wasted time at Gerson's, he would have to –

"Put that away, Kid. It's already gonna be a tough price without having an actual money price on it too."

Sans hesitated, clutching the G in his hands before re-pocketing it. How in the world would Gerson . . .

"Ha-have you read it?" Sans asked evenly, turning his attention back down to the notebook and flipping through the fragile pages.

Gerson shook his head, "Well, skimmed it more like. And let's just say that if you _were_ the friend she was looking for, you . . . Just . . . you might want to make sure you're in a comfortable spot when you read it."

Again, Sans looked up from the pages. A certain suspicious look to his eyes. He suspected Gerson might have known more than he was letting on.

Gerson looked back to Sans then, but all hint of his former smile had vanished. Sans had to wonder what was going on in his head, but the wonder only lasted for a moment before Sans backed out of the cave to resume his mission.

Just as he was crossing the threshold, he paused and looked back toward Gerson. He had to know.

"Hey, Old Man. What did you mean when you said you had a feeling it'd be me? I don't even really know you."

Gerson laughed outright as if it were a punchline that was slow to drop. One that only he understood.

"I was wondering when you'd ask about that! You see, son, I'm old. Perhaps older than I'd like to be. And when you get to be my age, you see a few things. And believe me, I have! But _never_ have I seen anything like you before! Hmm . . . Maybe you can jog my memory, son. Just how long have you been working at the lab now?"

Sans stopped dead, staring at Gerson with unblinking eyes. The turtle just smiled back at him wordlessly for a long moment, before he laughed again.

"I suppose that's not important right now. Anyway, I'm glad her notebook found you."

"Yeah . . . sure . . . whatever, Gramps . . . And thanks."

"You be careful out there, Kid."

Sans didn't dare open the notebook and he didn't ever really plan to. If he could, he would return it to Ava when he found her. Gerson said that she was on her way to see the King which meant that she would have to pass through Hotland and through the CORE before she got to them.

Back to Hotland it was then. He would go the top way and avoid his co-workers if he could . . .

This proved to be especially difficult as he approached the lab. It seemed as time had completely gotten away from him. As he approached, several monsters were beginning to file out of there, talking among themselves and engaging in gossip that would be better suited around a water cooler.

"After so long of keeping all this soul stuff hush-hush, he finally decides to let one of us in. And get this. It's _Alphys_ of all people! . . . And now he's got her working on some big machine or something."

"I mean, it does make sense if you think about it."

"But _Alphys_!?"

"Well, if it's some kind of machine . . . that _is_ Alphys' strong suit. She would be able to help a lot more than any of us could anyway. C'mon, Gaine, she's been here for a few years now and she's been doing a lot of really great work. Have you seen her robot prototype? She made it out of spare parts from the dump! That's some real talent right there! Give her some credit."

"And, besides, I guess Gaster really could use the extra help, especially now that Serif is . . ."

"Oh! Hey, Sans!" Baelin cut in, both acknowledging Sans' arrival and alerting the others that he was within earshot and to quiet whatever conversation they had been having before. As he approached she gave Sans a slight nod. "Why are you here? Aren't you supposed to be suspended or something like that?"

Sans remained quiet for a few moments as he sorted some things out in his own head. In his arms, he still carried the notebook and he kept it clasped tightly against him as if protecting it from harm . . . or shielding it from sight. The others didn't need to know the details of his own mission. Not only that, but what they had been talking about was actually pretty interesting. Gaster was working directly with Alphys now? Well, if she was going to be taking over for him as the doctor's apprentice, it did make sense.

"eh, something like that." He greeted, "I was just passing through is all. And I wanted to check up on some things here, y'know? See if anything's blown up since I've been away. But please, don't stop on my account. It seems you guys had some pretty juicy stuff going on around here. What's up with Al?"

The other monsters were a little apprehensive about letting Sans in on the goings on around the lab since he was supposed to be off. Technically, yes, he was still Gaster's employee, but if he was suspended, was he still allowed to be involved?

When the silence lasted for just a beat too long, Sans shrugged, dismissing the whole thing.

"Or don't tell me. That's okay too. I'll just ask her later. I'll see you guys around, yeah?"

"Wait. Serif . . . ?" Said Baelin as she stepped forward for a moment.

Sans halted for a second, turning his attention back toward her. Standing behind her, Gaine had his arms crossed, a look of disbelief on his face. Surely, Baelin was going to spill all the secrets.

"There's been some development on the souls."

"Baelin!" Gaine snapped.

"He's one of us, Gaine! He deserves to know!" She turned her attention back toward Sans and let out a small breath, "A few days ago, Dr. Gaster came out and said that he believes he may have found the thing that makes human souls so much more durable than monster souls- a common element that links them all together. He still doesn't know _what_ it is, but he's working on a way to extract that essence. He's having Alphys construct a sort of machine that will help make the extraction process easier. With any luck, he will be able to extract that and replicate it. Maybe he'll be able to create enough soul power to shatter the barrier. This could be a huge breakthrough for everyone. Even Gaine thinks that –"

"Alright Baelin, that's enough." Gaine interjected. "He doesn't need to know all that."

". . . Anyway." Ruddard continued, joining in on the conversation, "The thing is, if Gaster can isolate that one common thread, he could even use it to strengthen a Monster's soul . . . If we were as resilient as the humans, we could easily match them in battle . . . maybe even overtake them."

Sans silenced as he contemplated the implications of what a discovery like that could mean. The others were right. This was an incredibly huge discovery.

. . . And Gaster hadn't even mentioned it to him once. And it wasn't as if the opportunity hadn't been there. Through the many times they crossed each other in the halls even after hours, during one of Sans' daily CHECKS, in the morning over coffee. There had been plenty of time for Gaster to have brought up such a dynamic bit of information to him.

Sans had even asked him _directly_ ifthere had been any progress and the doctor had _lied._ Or perhaps lying by omission was the better term. The doctor never actually said there _hadn't_ been any developments, but he had expertly and conveniently drawn any conversation of the matter away.

Just why did Gaster want to keep it secret from him, anyway? If all of the other assistants could be trusted with the information, why not him?

Or maybe it was as simple as the fact that Sans _was_ on suspension. Maybe Gaster didn't want Sans sneaking around and researching this on his own when he was supposed to be resting . . . that does sound like something Sans would do . . . and it does sound like a precaution Gaster would take to prevent something like that from happening.

Sans was saved from his own thoughts and for answering the questions that were hidden in the assistants' expressions when a clanking set of metal footsteps broke them from their conversation, and Sans from his own mind.

The group turned their attention when a Royal Guard approached.

"Is this the laboratory of Dr. W.D. Gaster?" The guard inquired.

"It is." Gaine answered instinctively, stepping forward to be the mouthpiece of the group. "We've closed for the day, so if you have any questions, they will have to wait until tomorrow."

The guard seemed to hum to himself at the information, deciding what to do next. Eventually, he nodded to himself and continued, his words directed toward Gaine. "That is unfortunate, but I must insist. "Per Dr. Gaster's request, we have captured a fallen human and were are prepared to deliver them here. Please inform Dr. Gaster of the capture and we will need someone to help escort the human to their holding cell."

"A human . . . ?" Gaine questioned, "And Gaster wanted them alive . . . ? What the heck is he thinking?"

"Holding cell?" Asked Maltez, speaking for the first time in a long period. "We haven't had holding cells since . . . that one experiment. P-47 . . . . something. I thought we'd repurposed all of them."

"Well, I guess it's time to dust off the cobwebs and get one functional again." Gaine hummed, "Guess we're working overtime, sorry boys . . . and Baelin."

Something in Gaine's voice was downright cheerful at this new information. Maybe it was at the prospect of being able to see and study the human first-hand. Whatever it was, it was enough to add an extra bit of enthusiasm to his composure.

"In fact, Baelin, why don't you go and find Gaster. The rest of us will get one of the holding cells ready for the new specimen. Sound like a plan?"

Ruddard kind of let out a bit of a groan. He had been looking forward to going home and resting for the rest of the day. This business with the human was seriously eating into his time. Maltez shrugged. He had been ready to go as well. He had reservations to meet up with his brother at a new restaurant here in Hotland, but, he supposed those plans would have to wait now . . .

"Good deal." Said the Royal Guard. I'll be sure my superiors know you are preparing the cell.

"Understood." Gaine nodded as he and the others turned back to re-enter the lab and get to their new assignments.

The only one who remained completely still was Sans. There was just so much new information. Since when was Gaine the one calling the shots? Why was the human gonna be brought _here_!?

For a few moments, Sans remained motionless, thinking over what his next move should be. It wasn't as if he could follow the others, because, after all, he was still suspended and he ccouln't go back to the lab now because . . .

Because . . . .

Well . . .

To _HELL_ with the suspension! He _had_ to get back into the lab. If the Guard was bringing Ava _to_ him, he couldn't let the opportunity pass . . .

. . . But it also meant that some of the people who knew him best would be around and keeping a careful watch over their prisoner, preventing Sans from getting anywhere near her - probably for the whole night. . . Not only that, but if _Gaster_ was the one who made the request for her to be taken in alive . . .

And if that machine Alphys had been working on was anywhere _remotely_ near completion . . .

. . . What the hell was he planning to do to Ava!?

Whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

Swallowing past the nerves, Sans decided that he didn't care what the risk was. He would break Ava out.

Even if it meant risking everything he'd worked for the past eight years to build.

Sans let out a long breath and turned his attention briefly toward the guard who had delivered the message. He was a tall monster and the rabbit ears at the top of his helmet made him seem even taller. Like Undyne, he refused to remove his helmet. It must have been a safety precaution.

"Hey," Sans began, still clutching the notebook against him. "The human . . . where are they now? What's their status? What are their stats like? How long do we have to prepare this impenetrable holding cell?"

The guard took a moment to look Sans up and down. He didn't look like he was dressed for working in the lab, at least not like the others had been. But after a few moments, the guard deemed Sans worthy enough for the information.

"They are on their way as we speak. Undyne cornered the human. She trapped them and completely overpowered them! Without a weapon, the human couldn't even fight back! They didn't stand a chance. Not for Undyne's spear barrage!

Sans halted once again as he listened to the story.

"And the human." Sans asked, "She's still alive?"

"Those were our orders." The guard confirmed. "Though, I'm amazed that Undyne was actually able to hold back! She almost took that human out! But no, the human isn't dead. The doctor specifically expressed that he needed the human brought in alive."

Sans slowly let out the breath he'd been holding, a part of him seizing once again.

. . . At least she was still alive. He had to keep that in mind and repeat that in his mind as many times as he could. At least she was still alive and there was still a chance she wouldn't end up like the others.

Not if he had anything to do with it.

He would break her out. Tonight, if he could. But to do that, he had to get back into the lab without the others knowing.

There was a back way into the lab from the other side of Hotland. Sans decided to head upward along the main path toward the city, bypassing the front entrance altogether. He would take that route and wait.

Without another word, Sans turned to head around. When the guard asked where he was going and that he was heading _away_ from the lab instead of toward it, Sans had only given him a small wave as he walked, telling him that it was a "shortcut".

* * *

Only an hour or two after the team had gone back into the lab, the Guard arrived with "the human" in tow. They'd bound her hands together to prevent her from attacking and they covered her head to keep her discombobulated. Even if she hadn't been too weakened and exhausted from her battles to try to escape, even if she had been able to somehow get away from the army of monsters surrounding her, she would have been too lost to figure out what to do next.

It was Gaine who was the one who "escorted" the Guard and the human through the lab and made sure she was secured within the holding cell before the cover was removed. Once the seal of the holding cell was activated, Gaine stood watch until orders from Gaster were delivered.

It was agreed that the assistants would rotate watch through the night, making sure that the human did not try anything funny or try to slip from custody. She had already managed to evade the Royal Guard several times, which was no easy feat. They would have to be especially diligent.

Furthermore, human would not be allowed sleep and only minimal amounts of food. For some reason, it was imperative that the human's HP remained low. At most, her external wounds would be healed so she wouldn't die right away. Gaster wanted her healthy, but not strong.

Perhaps he was planning to make her suffer for the monsters she killed before she was taken captive. That LV had to have come from somewhere.

Whatever the scenario, the assistants were more than willing to comply. It wasn't often they were able to be around a human, much less a live one.

So they rotated watch. At first, the monsters were eager to study the human for their own observations. They wanted to see what made humans so much more different than monsters. Many of them had never seen a live human before and they wanted to get as many notes down for their own records as possible.

After the first few hours, however, this proved to be most taxing.

On Gaster's order, the assistants were to refrain from talking to the human for any reason. If she were to beg and to plead to be released, if she were to try to strike a bargain, if she were to show any sign or desire to communicate, the staff was to ignore her and keep her in isolation.

Without the ability to talk to her, the appeal of having a human around was drastically diminished. Even though the human, who had indeed been trying to barter for her freedom, began trying to communicate with the others from the lab staff, they were not allowed to answer or to ask any follow-up questions that would have made the conversation lucrative. And thus, hours passes and no new information was given.

Eventually, the lab assistants became bored of human watch and began trying to barter of watch shifts. Waiting in the break room for the dawn was better than waiting down with the human. It was so boring!

The only thing of merit worth mentioning was the one time Gaster eventually came to examine the human himself, observing her stats and monitoring her behavior. He needed to make sure she wasn't recovering any HP while still remaining alert and relatively healthy. He had plans for her and he needed her alive for what he had in mind.

Just like with his assistants, when the human began to ask questions of him, like what was going to happen to her, and why she was being kept alive, Gaster didn't respond. Instead, he kept his disembodied hands aloft to take note of what was going on, writing on a clipboard, while he observed her.

When she asked for water or maybe some food, again she was ignored. After some time, she stopped trying to talk to the monsters altogether and instead she took a spot near the back corner of the room where a low bench had been set up. She resigned herself to this corner and made little more effort to communicate.

Shortly after this, Gaster took his leave, jotting down a few final notes on his way out. As he exited and resealed the cell, the human heard him say something in a low garbled language. It was the first time he had said a single word since coming into her cell . . . and of course she couldn't understand it.

"In your state, even _he_ should be able to handle you." Was what she would have heard if she understood wingdings. Though she could not understand what he said, the human was afraid.

* * *

"Night" couldn't come quickly enough for Sans' fried nerves. So far, he'd avoided the others by staying down in the sublevels where his room was. But that space was limited and a little cramped, especially to his anxious mind. Sans spent most of his time pacing his room trying to keep his mind from immediately going to the worst of places. As difficult as it was to keep himself distracted before, it was about 1,000 times more difficult now that there was no possible distraction that was powerful enough to tear his mind away from what was going on a mere few floors above him.

Every minute or so, his attention would turn back to the old purple notebook on his desk as if he was checking to see if it had gone anywhere since the last minute. There was a part of his mind that kept going back to what Gerson was saying about it; that it was a tough read and that he'd need to be in a comfortable spot before he read it . . .

What could she have possibly written to make the former captain of the Royal Guard say something like that? Sans slowly stepped toward the notebook, very nearly reaching out for it. He gently set his bony hand on top of the cover, and when he did, he immediately felt as if all of the wind had been knocked out of him.

"Damn it, Sans!" He grumbled to himself, "Pull it together! It's just paper!"

A book filled with paper that had been graffittied from front to back in her handwriting.

Paper bearing her story.

Paper that had answers to questions he had been searching for for eight years.

He told himself he wasn't going to read it . . . but . . .

Sans flipped open the cover with a shaky hand. Why hadn't he noticed he had been shaking so much?

The first page was full of smeared doodles and phrases . . . were those song lyrics? Little musings and random thoughts. There were bound to be other pages just like this scattered throughout the notebook. This was her way of organizing her thoughts when her mind was clouded. Get it all out and see what comes of it.

At first, there wasn't anything special about the pages. Notes, directions, phone numbers, take-out orders, a sticky note with a personal reminder tacked in. Just like the Ava he knew before. It was a bit of a relief, actually, to see how little she had changed over the years.

Sans actually smiled as he flipped through the early pages . . . until one stood out to him.

The page was almost completely blank, even the lines were faded, washed out by tear stains.

The next page had a single word written repeatedly, haphazardly, in different angles and levels of intensity. Jagged scrawls and furious scratches sat next to smooth traces and feathery sketches. The page was filled with this one word.

His name.

The next page, again, was only one phrase, written only once in tiny letters in the very center of the page.

 _'I'm sorry'_

Starting from there, the notebook seemed to transform. It stopped being about notes and keeping thoughts organized and it abruptly changed into something else entirely. A letter, maybe? Or an account of her journey, like a diary.

She began this section, again, with his name and an apology before getting into the bulk of what she wanted to say.

It _was_ a letter. A letter exclusively for him. As Sans read further and further into the pages, he could feel his chest seize and his throat close in on itself. His legs shook again as he fought to remain standing. So he didn't try to stand anymore. He took a seat at his desk and huddled over the notebook, reading every page like chapters in a story. Ava was taking him through her thoughts, through her ideas, into therapy sessions where they tried to convince her to get over him, that he was most likely dead. Still, she refused to believe it. Years passed on paper in the span of a minute and Ava had come to a decision.

If he wasn't coming back to her, then she would have to go to him. She began to do research, trying to find out what happened to him. She asked friends, colleagues, rivals, and even enemies.

Eventually, she was led to Ebott.

 _"I don't know how credible this is considering the source of the information. But right now, Burl's word is all I have left to go on._

 _"I know that if I do this, there's no coming back. I know the story of this place and I know the lore. But if you're there, then I don't care. I'll find you. I promise."_

Sans' heart thundered as he read. How could she have been so _stupid_!? Why would she even _think_ of coming to Ebott if she knew what she was getting into? To see _him_!? He wasn't worth her freedom! He wasn't worth her life!

She continued, giving descriptions of different places she saw when she came to the Underground. The Ruins, the snowy forest, Snowdin. All the detail she put into her journey made him feel as if he was actually traveling alongside her, step by step, living each moment and experiencing the Underground for the first time through her eyes.

But eventually, and inevitably, the dream ended and the nightmare began.

It happened suddenly. In one page, she was talking about a tranquil room with "some sort of talking flowers" and on the back of the very same page, the writing was rushed and sloppy. She was afraid. Someone had attacked her while she was resting. She escaped. She was able to find a hiding spot for a moment, but she had to be careful.

The next page was nearly illegible, tear stained and warped. But even so, Sans could see the ranting and questioning why she had even thought to come to Ebott in the first place. Why she would want to put herself through that kind of gauntlet. That the way monsters treated humans was _exactly_ the way she'd always heard. They wanted to kill her on sight. She had to fight battle after battle, and though she tried to escape . . . there were times when she couldn't. She had to fight back . . .

She'd gained 2 LV.

She continued searching. There was the conversation with Gerson. She found it interesting that he didn't try to attack her right away, not only that, but he knew a way out! If she talked to the king, he might even help her . . . but as much as she wanted to go home, she still had her mission to complete.

The next page was . . . completely destroyed, torn crumpled . . .

Blood-stained . . .

 _"HELP ME!"_ She'd scrawled over and over in jagged and rushed letters, _"OH, GOD PLEASE HELP ME!"_

They were onto her, closing in, attacking from every side, chasing her down and forcing her to fight.

The last page.

She was crying. And as he read, Sans could feel her pain as well. There was blood staining the edges of the pages, tears blurring out the lines.

She wrote like she knew it was the last entry. She apologized repeatedly for what happened and for not being able to say it to him directly. She wrote about her decision to come to Ebott and wanted him to know that even if she died down in the Underground, she didn't regret the decision.

 _"It was worth it even for the slightest chance that I might see you again."_

But it was the last phrase that nearly shattered him. It was written in the lower corner of the page in the same tiny letters as there had been at the beginning of the letter.

 _"And if it is my only chance to say it . . . If you happen to be reading this and I'm not around to tell you myself . . ._

 _. . . I love you . . ._

 _Goodbye . . ."_

That was the last page. Everything after that was blank or torn or stained beyond salvaging in tears and in blood.

Sans' hands fisted tightly in his shirt, in his jeans, over his heart.

"Ava . . ." He whispered.

He had to break her out! She was still alive! She was in her cell! She was in the same building! Her story wasn't over!

And now that she was here, perhaps even she could be . . .

Sans hadn't felt this way in a long _long_ time. In that moment, the only thing that mattered was Ava. She was _everything_ and if he could save her . . .

Monsters or no monsters! Curse or no curse! He had to get her out of here!

* * *

The others were still around, trading shifts for sleep or favors. The majority of them were in the break room, but Maltez, the unlucky loser of a bet was stuck on double watch. He had already finished his own shift and was currently just beginning Ruddard's.

He yawned as he leaned against the wall. So far, the human was being terribly uninteresting. When she wasn't crying, she was begging and when she wasn't doing one or the other, she was doing both.

Obviously, she was scared, but he had little sympathy. She was human. Whatever she got, she deserved, no matter how pathetic she sounded. He just wished she would shut up. It was starting to tax on his nerves.

Eventually, the human stopped begging and sat on the floor next to the barrier keeping her trapped. She began talking to him, like she had when she first came. She wanted to know his name and what he did. She wanted to know about his family. When he wouldn't answer, the human sighed, instead, telling him her story and of the friend she was looking for.

"If your 'friend' was human, then you should give up. They're _long_ gone by now." Maltez answered with a little bit of a chuckle to his tone.

"Ha!" The human answered with a certain brightness to her voice, "You do speak!"

Maltez frowned and, with a groan, he turned his head away once again. He didn't mean to talk to the human, but that talk about finding her friend was actually kind of amusing. He wouldn't let it happen again.

"So, is this common practice then?" The human asked, the tone to her voice calmed significantly. "How many other humans have sat in this same cell, I wonder. What kinds of things does that tall man with the floating hands do to people like me? He's the one in charge, right? He's the boss around here?"

Maltez remained silent.

The human hummed. "Or don't tell me. That's okay too. Maybe he'll tell me when he comes back."

Maltez frowned at that, a pang of familiarity about the way she said that, though he couldn't quite place where he'd heard it before. Eventually, he shrugged it off and continued his watch.

Minutes passed, hours followed, and Maltez struggled to remain conscious. He sat just outside of the holding cell with his arms crossed and his eyes half-lidded. His captive, the human, seemed to resign herself to her prison, pacing the limited space silently until she tired of that and sat back down on the little bench in the corner. Anxious, exhausted, but unable to sleep, she began to hum a slow and calming melody, letting her uneasiness and fear dissipate momentarily.

Maltez listened in as something about the voice resonated within him. The song was sweet and soothing like the melody sung by a mother to a child and to him, a monster who had worked a full day plus overtime and was currently on his second watch shift without so much as a break, it was a welcomed relief.

Before he could catch himself, Maltez's eyes closed as he gave in to his fatigue.

* * *

Sans knew he had to be stealthy when he traveled through the dim walkways. Really, he was grateful for the dark. It was easier to hide when there were shadows. He had no idea where any of the other assistants would be, what they would be doing or even where they would be keeping Ava. But he did know where there were holding cells and he did know that they would want to use one that had relatively easy access to amenities, which meant that wherever they were keeping her, the rest of the staff would be nearby . . . Sans had to be doubly cautious that he didn't run into anyone.

He didn't have much of a plan. Get Ava, get out, keep running. That just about summed it up. He couldn't be bothered by details. Maybe they could find some place to lie low for a while, maybe disguise Ava so she would fit in. Move to the capital. Hide in plain sight. He could teach her to use magic.

Whatever. He had to save her first.

He opened the door to his bedroom and peered into the first of many hallways he would have to traverse. It was dark. Just like he had been expecting. Perfect.

With a low breath, he drew up the hood to his jacket and slipped silently through the threshold of his room for what would surely be the last time. His sights were set for the stairs. He couldn't take the elevator . . . it was too noisy and he had to get to the lower holding cells as quietly as possible.

What Sans didn't notice and what he didn't count on was Papyrus further down the hall, watching his every move from the crack in his door. Papyrus had known immediately that there was something troubling his brother. He locked himself in his room the moment he came home and refused any kind of food. When the time came for the bedtime story, he refused that as well. Sans _never_ refused to read the bedtime story so when he did, Papyrus was shocked. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. And he had to find out what.

Sans, unaware of his brother, continued onward, relying mainly on his sense of hearing to guide him through the lab. He could hear the laughter of the other assistants above, So they were probably near or in the break room where there would be easy access to the elevator . . . which was not in motion at that moment . . . and it didn't sound as if there was anyone traveling the stairwell.

All clear.

Standing on his toes, Sans descended the staircase where he knew the holding cells were. He still had to be extremely careful. Just because many of the assistants were up in the break room didn't mean that there wasn't at least one lookout. After all, _someone_ had to watch after their prisoner.

Something caught Sans' ear about three floors below, a faint sound. A low humming that had nothing to do with machinery. It was soft and melodic.

It was _her_!

Immediately, Sans' heart beat against his ribs like a battering ram, forceful and unyielding. It demanded that he step forward toward the sound.

He stopped on the last stair and listened. This was the same hallway that Gaster had nearly blown up when he had been working on that first soul . . . the memory sent another bit of anxiety through Sans, but not as much as what he found when he peered around the corner of the stairwell into the hallway.

Maltez was right there at the foot of one of the cells keeping watch. Of course he knew there would be a guard, but still, seeing him caught him a little off guard. He had to figure how he was going to distract him and open Ava's cell without triggering any alarms and . . . and . . .

. . . And Maltez was asleep. Leaning against the wall with his head lowered and his eyes shut as he rested peacefully.

Well, that's one obstacle down.

But that still left the "how" behind the rest of his ill-constructed "plan".

Slowly, Sans stepped out into the hall, carefully inching forward toward the cell Maltez was supposed to be guarding. As he approached, the singing stopped. Sans stopped, leaving the hall in silence.

"Hello . . . ?" Said her voice cautiously; quietly, "Hello? Who's there!?"

Sans didn't answer right away, but stepped forward all the same. He was still dealing with his thundering heart and it seemed to pause for a moment whenever she spoke. He was excited to hear her speak again.

"I know you're there." She said in an oddly defiant tone for someone in her position, "Show yourself."

The moment of truth. How should he start this off. . . how would she react to seeing him . . . Would she even . . .

Sans let out a sigh as he neared the cell.

"Alright alright, just hold on a sec."

She let out a tiny little surprised squeak, "Wait . . . are you actually talking _to_ me?"

Sans chuckled, "Who else would I be talking to?" He turned his attention momentarily to Maltez's sleeping form as he leaned over and gingerly relieved him of his keycard. "This guy here's out cold."

Ava let out a slight hum as she thought it over." I guess you're right. But, see, the thing is, no one else actually talks to me . . . well one guy did, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. Come here, please, where I can see you. Who are you? What's your name? What can you tell me about this place? What are they planning to do to me?"

Sans' chuckle became quiet laughter, "Anyone ever tell you that you ask a crap-ton of questions?"

Ava hummed again, an almost inaudible giggle joining the sound, "It's come up once or twice. I'm sorry. How about we just start with one. Please, tell me your name."

"Of all of the information and of all of the burning questions you have, you want to know my _name_?" Sans took another step forward, keeping his hood drawn and his head lowered, ensuring that his face remained hidden as he finally showed himself to her, stepping into view from beyond the threshold.

"Mmm-hmm." She answered, moving to be nearer to the barrier keeping her trapped. "You don't seem like a bad monster. Maybe you can help me. You see, I'm looking for someone."

"Oh, I know all about your quest." Sans answered, "You've been all over the place searching for your friend, right?"

"Right . . . ?" Ava asked a bit hesitantly, a little suspicious of the way this monster spoke about this. There was something about him that was . . . very different from every other monster she'd met so far.

If only he'd lower his hood so she could see his face.

"Well," Sans continued, "I can tell you right now that searching any further would be a complete waste of time. Like an unsharpened pencil, there's _no point_."

Despite herself, Ava let out a laugh, "That was really bad."

Sans laughed with her, taking a bit of pride in getting her to do so despite her situation, "Heh, yeah, I know. I'm full of 'em, and while others seem to find my jokes _bone dry_ , I find them pretty _humerus_ myself."

Ava laughed again. "Oh my god. That's gotta be the most over-used bone joke ever." In a moment, she sobered herself once again. "So, you're a Skeleton? From what I've gathered, Skeletons speak in Font, right? And judging by your distinguished caliber of joke telling, yours must be . . ." She drifted off as she thought it over and the more she thought about it, the more everything seemed to click into place. The reason why she felt there was something different about this monster . . . Why he seemed so familiar to her. Her smile faded gradually and her jaw dropped open for a moment as she pieced it together.

"C'mon, Ava." Sans addressed her quietly, "You're smart. I know you can figure it out."

He knew her name . . .

Ava looked at the Skeleton on the other side of the barrier, dumbfounded. He had since lifted his head so she could see his face, his hollowed eyes and his constant smile, "No way . . ." She breathed, "It can't be . . ."

Sans laughed again and when he did, Ava listened to the sound intently. She gasped and covered her mouth.

Sans shrugged, "Good morning, Sunshine."

That was all the confirmation Ava could have ever asked for. She drew in another quick breath as she fought with herself to keep even more tears from falling.

"It really is you, isn't it!?" She questioned through voiceless enthusiasm, "You're really here! Si—"

"Shhhh." Sans interrupted shaking his head as he swiped Maltez's keycard through the little device on the threshold of Ava's cell. When it beeped back at him, denying entry, Sans expertly punched in Gaster's override code, silencing the impending alarm before it was sounded. The lights of the magical barrier died down leaving nothing between the two of them.

"'Round here, the name is 'Sans'." The Skeleton corrected.

Ava scoffed, "'Sans'? Really? But I thought . . ."

"Eh, what can I say? It kinda grew on me."

"Guess it did."

There was a quiet moment that fell between the two of them and it was during that time that Sans realized just how beaten Ava really was. Her clothing was torn, burned and bloodied and her face and arms bore signs of similar treatment. But through it all, she wore a smile and it seemed as if her wounds had been healed, leaving only traces of the Hell she endured to make it to that point.

Sans' smile turned reflective as he lowered his head again. "Ava, I'm so sorry." He sighed in a low voice, "All of this, and I couldn't even—"

He was cut off when Ava closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms around Sans and trapping him within them. At first, Sans was shocked out of speaking and he, instead, drew in a breath. After a moment or two, he released it slowly, allowing himself to melt into the embrace.

"I've missed you so much." Ava whispered, " I knew you were still alive. I _knew_ it . . ."

Sans remained silent, unable to find suitable words for her. Instead, he acted as her comfort, allowing her the time she needed.

When that moment ended, Ava pulled away to take a better look at her friend, raising a hand to gently touch her fingers to Sans' cheek. Initially, Sans flinched, not expecting the gesture and Ava hesitated, realizing her mistake. But after another moment, she tried again, closing the short distance between them to place a small kiss to the corner of his permanent smile.

Unable to return the gesture, Sans simply took Ava's hand in one of his own, the glove he wore making up for his lack of flesh.

"What happened to you?" Ava asked solemnly, "How did . . . When did . . . ?" She was unable to complete her thought.

"That . . . Is a long story." Sans replied, lowering their hands and turning his attention back to the stairwell, "And one we don't have time to get into right now. C'mon, we gotta get you out of here, before someone realizes."

Ava nodded as she followed Sans, keeping her fingers tightly laced with his. She still had so many questions, but they could wait until they were gone from this place, but where exactly, were they going? Was there any place that could possibly be safe for them without her drawing attention because she was human . . . ? Still, she trusted Sans. Wherever they went, just knowing that Sans would be there too, made her feel more at ease.

They wove their way through the corridors, avoiding any areas that could be populated. Sans, again, had to rely on his hearing to guide them. He knew they wouldn't be able to use the main entrances as the others would surely be near those, so, just like before, he would need to find a lesser known exit.

The problem with that was not knowing where Gaster was. The doctor was less predictable than his coworkers, so he had to be exceedingly cautious with regards to him.

They were slipping through a particularly dark and under-used hallway, when Sans noticed a tentative squeeze of his hand.

"Si . . . Um . . . Sans . . .?" She asked in a whisper that was just above audible. "Sorry, I'll never get used to that . . . "

"Heh, take your time." Sans replied, taking a moment to shoot a smile back toward her, "What's up?"

Ava hesitated as she sorted her words, "Sans . . . I'm sorry. It's been so long since that night . . . and I knew you were out there . . . I'm just . . . I'm sorry it took me so long to find you."

For a moment, Sans stopped in his steps, taking the time to turn to face Ava again. "Okay. Let's settle one thing right now." He began in a note that exuded finality. "You have _nothing_ to apologize for, got it? And I don't want you thinking you do."

"But, I pushed you away . . . If I had just stayed, then maybe . . ."

"Stop that. Look, what happened to me had _nothing_ to do with you, 'kay? So stop beatin' yourself up about it. It would've turned out this way anyway."

Ava nodded and held tightly onto Sans' hand as they continued back down the corridor. Sans didn't seem upset with her, but she did know him and remember him well enough to know that there was still something very wrong with him.

"Sans . . . ?" She asked again.

"Yeah?"

"How are you? Are you . . ." She fought with herself to find the right word, "Are you okay?"

Sans shot another look back at Ava and her dour expression. It was obvious that she was still feeling guilty for what happened and there was a large part of Sans that wanted to set her anxieties at ease . . . but this was neither the time nor the place. They still needed to get Ava someplace safe.

. . . But still . . .

"I'm fine." He answered as quietly as he could, "I've been busy working here in the lab under Dr. Gaster. We've been working on trying to break the barrier and get back up to the surface. You know . . . I never told anyone before . . . and everyone has their own reasons for wanting that barrier broken, but my reason has always been getting back to find you. I've still got a letter to mail after all. Nothing else really mattered, just getting that letter sent."

Sans wished that he could go into more detail. Tell her everything about the monsters here and life in the lab, about Gaster and Papyrus . . . Papyrus . . .

"Oh yeah, I've got a brother now! Name's Papyrus. The big lug, you'll love him! Once we get you out. I'll have to come back for him. But for now, Papyrus is fine. We've gotta get _you_ taken care of first. Just stay close, okay? I'm gonna protect you. I promise."

There was the life Ava had been missing. Sans really was doing well for himself here in this Underground world. He had a job, as a _scientist_ no less, and he had a place to live, and a family, it seemed, with this brother of his. Granted, it did sound strange that he would suddenly have a "brother" but for now, Ava wouldn't question it too much. That was something that she could ask him about later.

He had been doing just fine without her . . . but even so, he still wanted to get to the surface . . . all so he could send her a letter.

She smiled to herself at that thought. And here, she'd thought that he'd forgotten all about that stupid promise.

He never had forgotten about her. That thought made it difficult to stop the smile that spread across her face or tame the blush that colored her features.

They continued in silence, with no other questions or distractions. They made it through the quiet corridors toward where Sans knew there was an almost-secret emergency exit. Just a little bit further and they were home free. At least from the lab.

There was another grab on Sans' hand, tighter and more demanding than before.

"S-Sans . . . ?" Ava's voice cut through the quiet, but the sound was forced, almost choked, like she was holding back tears.

That immediately grabbed Sans' attention. He whipped his gaze back behind him to see what was troubling Ava.

He found her standing motionless, her eyes wide as she looked back toward him. She looked as if she was struggling to breathe. He noticed that her free hand was gripping tightly at her side.

"Ava . . . ?" He asked, a certain level of fear weighing on his words now, "Ava? What's wrong?"

Unable to speak, Ava removed the hand that had been clutching her side. Her palm was bloody and there seemed to be a rapidly growing stain blossoming from that one spot in her side, coloring her clothing and dripping down to the linoleum.

Sans' eyes went wide when he saw, "Ava!" He exclaimed, rushing to see what happened.

What the hell!? Two seconds ago, Ava was fine! She was inquisitive and smiling! They were _so_ close to freedom . . . And now . . .

What the hell happened!?

Ava fell forward, her legs and her strength giving out. Thinking quickly, Sans was right there to catch her as she fell.

He sank with her to the ground, laying her down in his lap, "C'mon, Ava!" He coached, "Stay with me!"

But Ava was still, her eyes fluttering somewhere between opened and shut. She _was_ still fighting but she was barely holding on. She was bleeding _way_ too much, _way_ too quickly. At this rate, she would bleed out before he had the chance to help. He had to do something! He had to stop the bleeding! He had to figure out what the hell caused this!

He couldn't call for help! He couldn't leave her to find supplies . . . He had to use what he had!

What the hell did he _have_!?

Sans leaned over her, examining that deep red spot in her clothing. He threw off his gloves and used them as gauze against the open wound . . . wounds . . . slashes . . . gouges.

A series of deep and jagged lacerations striped Ava's side. Through her lower ribs and into the soft tissue just beneath. From the location . . . her kidney, her stomach, her intestines . . . they all could be damaged . . . but he couldn't tell just by looking.

The gloves weren't going to be enough. Not my a long shot!

Ava began to convulse. She was going into shock! But what could he possibly do!? He couldn't heal her! He couldn't even close the wounds!

He had . . . He had candy . . . But what the _fuck_ would candy do to heal a wound like this!?

Still, he fumbled through the pockets of his jacket. His hands were shaking so badly, he couldn't even.

Why were there holes in his pockets? Both pockets had large gaping holes and his bloody fingers slipped straight through.

Damn it! Damn it! When did he lose the candy? Where!?

His eyes darted around. It couldn't have been too long ago! It must have just happened! The same time Ava was attacked! So there must have been at least one piece around!

There! On the floor next to the wall! He had to . . . he had to get it before Ava . . .

Sans quickly removed his jacket. If anything, he could use it as . . . not a tourniquet . . . damn it! What was the word . . . Fuck it! He'd tie it around Ava . . . keep pressure on the slashes, keep the gloves in place as he went to get the candy.

He worked as quickly and as efficiently as he could. He needed to work fast. FASTER THAN THIS, DAMN IT!

Finally with his hands shaking uncontrollably, he tied his jacket around her, but her blood almost immediately permeated it and it was quickly turning purple as the red bled into blue.

He still . . . he had to . . .

"Hang on, Ava! I'll be right back!"

He slipped away, laying Ava on the floor where she continued to convulse. He had to hurry! She was running out of time.

Sans scrambled. He couldn't even stand to run. He launched himself forward, tearing his attention away from Ava for a second to reach out for the candy.

He nearly had it! He just had to . . .

A dark foot kicked it out of reach as Sans was about to close his hand around it. In the next second, his hand was pinned to the ground by that same dark shoe.

"No!" Sans exclaimed as he tried to tear his hand away. He was unsuccessful.

His eyes shot upward to whoever it was holding his hand down.

And he was greeted by a deep scowl. As that scowl bore into him, the shrieking wail of the siren coupled by the flashing red warning lights of the alarm system sounded horrible cries. On the overhead was the voice of Maltez filling every corridor.

 _ **"ALL STAFF BE ADVISED! THERE HAS BEEN A SECURITY BREACH! THE HUMAN HAS ESCAPED! TAKE NECESSARY PRECAUTIONS AND REPORT TO HOLDING CELL 4!"**_

He repeated that message two more times.

But the announcement wasn't what concerned Sans. As he looked into the stabbing eyes of his coworker, his heart sank.

"What exactly do you think you're doing, Serif!?" Gaine spat, leaning forward on his foot and nearly crushing Sans' hand. Already, it felt as if his metacarpals were about to splinter under the weight. "Where do you think you're going with that human!?"

"Gaine! Gaine, please let me go! She . . . Ava, she's going to die! GAINE PLEASE!"

"Ugh!" Gaine growled, "You even know the human's _name_!? And you're all buddy-buddy with them!? How disgusting!"

"GET. OFF. OF. ME!" Sans shouted.

No sooner had he said it, did a single bone fly, seemingly out of nowhere to strike Gaine in the back of the head, surprising him out of his current thoughts.

Gaine shot his scowl backward to see who the hell it was who attacked him.

Standing in the hall, about 20 feet away was a tall Skeleton, an over-sized femur in his hand as several other dis-articulated bones floated around him.

"LEAVE MY BROTHER ALONE!" He demanded over the siren's wails.

As Gaine turned his attention, completely to the other Skeleton in utter shock, he released Sans hand

"YOU!?" He accused, "I thought you were decommissioned _years_ ago! What the . . . did you just . . . talk!?"

Papyrus glared back at Gaine, livid at the way he treated Sans. But more than that, Papyrus focused furiously back at the assistant as something flashed behind his eyes.

"I WON'T LET YOU KILL ANYONE ELSE!" Papyrus fumed, "THIS TIME I'LL STOP YOU!"

Immediately, Papyrus attacked, sending more bones toward Gaine and rushing forward to close the distance between them, his over-sized femur gripped tightly in his hand.

Gaine dodged the initial barrage of bones and bared his claws as well as his sharp teeth. He hissed back at Papyrus, ready for a fight!

Meanwhile, using the fight as a distraction, Sans had been able to grab one of the candies that had been spilled over the floor, and he was fumbling, trying to get it unwrapped. He rushed back toward the large puddle of blood where Ava lay. He approached her, never minding the blood and scooped her back up into his arms.

"Hang on, Ava!" He repeated, "This . . . this'll help! Just hold on!"

But Ava was completely unresponsive as he pried open her mouth to feed her the candy. She was completely limp in his arms and even as the confection touched her tongue, there was no change. The candy had no effect.

"No!" Sans muttered, grabbing tightly onto her, refusing to accept the implication of what he was seeing, "Nononono . . . no. C'mon! C'mon, Ava! Hang in there! You've come so far already! Don't give up now! No! Ava! Please! Don't leave me! Not after all this!"

But there was still no response. Not from the girl. But from within her, there was a soft glow resonating. It was faint at first, but the glow steadily grew.

"Ava!?" Sans called aloud, his voice pitching as he shook the body of the girl in his arms, "AVA!?"

Any fighting that had been going on between Gaine and Papyrus stopped suddenly when Sans released a long and unrelenting cry. They both turned back to see and they were just in time to witness the glow of the human's soul take shape.

Just above the lifeless form of the human girl, was a glowing purple heart, floating just above her chest.

And clutching onto the body was a trembling Skeleton, his clothing soaked in her blood as he held onto her as if his own life depended on it. But even as he held on, there was a definite shift in energy, a swirling of the air and force around them as if all things were swirling to converge at that one point in the room where Sans cried over the purple girl.

When Sans finally did look up, his focus was direct and deadly. His permanent smile was malicious as he honed in on the _thing_ that caused all of this. His tears continued to flow freely even as his eyes began to glow.

But it wasn't merely blue magic that fueled Sans now, it was something completely different, something that filled him and drove him far beyond just a primal rage or even a desire for revenge. This was something else entirely.

Sans was filled with DETERMINATION.

He didn't bother with words, but instead shot whatever energy he'd acquired directly toward the opposing monster.

It came as a bright white light a blinding blast of pure energy that hurtled its way right toward Gaine. He was the culprit! He was the one who killed Ava! He was the one to blame! He was going to pay!

Gaine was hit full force with the attack and even though he moved to defend, crossing his arms in front of him just before the attack hit, a good amount of his HP was lost because he wasn't expecting the attack. But he had gained LV with Ava's death, which meant there was more HP to whittle away than there would have been otherwise.

Which meant another blast of energy! Sans sent another, fully-powered blast at him and another, not allowing Gaine the chance to recover.

Though now that he had an idea of what to expect, Gaine was able to move on the defensive, dodging and avoiding the attacks as best he could in the narrow space. The tail ends of the magical attacks hit, but he never took another direct hit.

Sans was getting tired of the attacks missing his target. He reached out with bloody fingers to grab a firm hold of Gaine's soul, instantly turning it blue. With this new purchase, Sans flung the monster against the walls, against the ceiling and slammed him against the floor of the hallway.

Little by little, with every hit, Gaine's HP was drained, but on top of the initial HP that was steadily dropping, which actually wasn't much, maybe only two or three HP, there was that pink bar again that did significantly more. That pink bar drained as more and more of his life was being chipped away.

Slowly, Sans stood, laying Ava to rest on the floor momentarily as he made his way from her side to confront Gaine face to face. But even as he approached, it was obvious that the use of magic was starting to wear on him. Sans was panting already, trying to regain his nerves and his wits. His stamina and his strength was nearly depleted, but he still held onto Gaine's soul tightly with his blue magic.

As he walked the final few steps, ignoring Papyrus who was standing off to the side, wide-eyed and stunned by the display of pure force, Sans used the grip on Gaine's soul to pin the taller monster, now tattered and worn down from his beating, against the cold surface of the wall. Gaine still had use of his arms and legs, but he was unable to pull himself away from the spot.

"What the hell, Serif!?" Gaine nearly screamed, the alarm still blaring in his ears, "What the actual fuck is wrong with you!?"

"who gave you the right?" Sans muttered, ignoring the accusation. "who the hell do you think you are to take a life without a reason!? to take _her_ life!? what makes you think you're worthy enough to wield power like that!?to kill on a _whim_!?"

Gaine had to admit, looking back at Sans, covered nearly from head to toe in human blood, his eyes flashing blue and yellow, all while he had his soul firmly in his grasp . . . and knowing that those blasts could spring literally out of thin air with no warning . . . it frightened him. He'd never seen Sans this upset before, but somehow, he had managed to completely piss the little freak off so much that all of that rage was aimed directly toward him.

"hey," The Skeleton demanded, "i asked you a question, you fuckin' shit stain! i'm still waiting!"

Gaine continued to struggle against the hold as Sans stopped right in front of him, glaring upward through glowing eyes.

"Why are you so upset, Serif!? It was just one human!"

Sans' sockets went wide at that comment and he could feel fire coursing through to every inch of his body. "she had a name! fuckin' _use_ it! say it out loud!"

"How the hell am I supposed to—"

"AVA!" Sans cried, "her name was Ava! fuckin' _say_ it!"

"Fine! Ava, damn it! She was only one human. Inconsequential to –"

"Tell me Ava was 'inconsequential' again!" Sans bit, grinding his teeth in fury, "i fucking _dare_ you!"

From behind him, Papyrus approached, reaching a hand out, but thinking again about touching Sans' shoulder, especially in his current mood. This was another- scarier side to Sans he never thought he would ever see. He didn't like it on him in the slightest.

"Brother . . ." Papyrus suggested in a steady and quiet tone, trying to project a calmness he didn't feel. Not only was this kind of rage terrifying for him, but it was nearing dangerous levels for Sans. If he kept this up, it could wear on his HP too. "Perhaps it will be better if you—"

"stay out of this, papyrus!" Sans snapped.

For a split second, Sans shot a look over his shoulder to ward off Papyrus. He couldn't afford to have him get caught up in this too.

It was that split second that Gaine had been waiting for. His fingers flexed and his claws bared, Gaine swiped toward Sans at full force. He used his magic to extend his reach and ensure he made contact.

Instinctively, Papyrus reached forward grabbing Sans by the collar of his shirt and pulling him backward in an attempt to pull him free of Gaine's range.

He wasn't fast enough.

Gaine's attack made contact just like he'd hoped. It completely shredded the front of Sans' shirt and nicked at the bones of his ribs.

Gaine hadn't been aiming to kill, but he definitely wanted to put some distance between the Skeleton and himself.

He didn't know Sans was now only sitting on about 3 HP. He surely didn't act like it.

As Sans fell backward, the grip on Gaine's soul was lifted. Gaine landed on his feet with a bit of a triumphant and relieved smirk to his expression. Somehow, he'd managed to come out on top of this dispute.

And Serif . . .

That other Skeleton, the experiment, caught Serif as he fell, hissing through some kind of pain. There had been a spark between them when they touched. Serif's Max HP dropped in that moment from 3 to 2. but he didn't die. That nick to his bones hadn't been enough to actually kill him, but it was enough to knock him out! All traces of any kind of magic he had been using previously dissipated instantly and the only residual sense of urgency was the blaring of the alarm.

And more than that, Serif's soul . . .

His . . . Soul . . .

As Gaine looked at Serif's soul, he halted. He didn't know what he was looking at or how he was supposed to interpret it.

Inside of Serif' ribs . . . which were undeniably skeletal, floating in the otherwise empty cavity, was what looked to be a _human_ soul! It looked just like the purple one hovering over that Ava girl. Only this one was a deep blue. Almost indigo.

"Holy shit, Serif!" Gaine whispered, completely bewildered by what he was seeing, "What the fuck are you!?"


	16. Sans

**AN: I'll keep this short! As always, thank you so much for all of your continued support! I know you are all sick of of hearing that at the beginning of each chapter . . . But I don't care! THANK YOU! THANK YOU and THANK YOU A MILLION TIMES!**

 **Along the same thread, this story has just made 100 follows! You have no idea how excited I feel about that! As promised, I've begun work on that special art piece I was telling you about before!**

 **A new thing and a reminder:**

 **1) REMINDER: Surpassing Origins is still for sale on Amazon! If you're looking for a Christmas present for the book dragon in your life or maybe a little something for you, a sci-fi fantasy book might be a perfect fit!**

 **2) NEW: I've started a YouTube channel! There's not much much on there now, but I do have a couple lyric videos for the Undertale OST that I'm pretty proud about. So if you like, you can go and check them out! ^_^ One of them might even be pretty important for an upcoming chapter!**

 **Now on to this chapter! A few chapters ago, we got to see a bit into Gaster's life before he came to live in the lab, now, it's Sans' turn! Really, I've been looking forward to these chapters for quite some time! And I'm excited to finally be able to share them to you!**

 **Please enjoy and I'll see you for the next chapter!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 14**_

 _ **"Sans"**_

On a dark grassy hill, washed in the moon's gentle glow, a boy lay in a relaxed position. He always loved stargazing, even if he would be repeatedly teased and mocked for it. He had always been deemed the science nerd with his head in the clouds and his mind on the stars. He was focused in his studies, it was true. He would get high marks in his classes, especially in maths and sciences and any attention he would get from his peers aside from the ridicule, was them hounding him and demanding he do their homework for them in exchange for money or favors.

Against his own moral code, he would often take these deals and sometimes he would find a way to work an angle and get more money out of those who employed his services. It was how he got by- how he could afford to eat some days. The boy lived alone near the outskirts of town, moving constantly from uninhabited house to uninhabited house, squatting where he could. As long as it had a roof, he was fine. He had no other family to turn to for help so he did anything and everything he had to in order to make due. If the others noticed, or if they cared, they didn't show it. As long as he completed their assignments on time, there were few issues.

He let out a deep breath with his arms crossed behind him as he used them to cradle his head. Tonight was not a night for study, for homework, or for hustles. He was here, simply because he enjoyed looking up at the stars and admiring their beauty. That . . . and it would be the last time he would be able to do so from this hill.

He would be moving in the morning- college. He had been able to get early admission as well as a scholarship and he was excited to start classes, even if it did mean he would be giving up his favorite gazing spot. Oh well, he would have to find a new one out in Ebott.

"Hey there." Said an unexpected voice in a bright and hopeful tone. She giggled as she approached and came to a stop right over him.

If he were the night, this girl would have been the sun, bright and radiant. She always knew just how to lift any anxieties he could be feeling just by wearing a smile. Her wavy brown hair was pulled back into a lazy and sloppy bun. The style was really just enough to keep it out of her eyes, beautiful and green, as she peered over the glass of her rectangular lenses. She grinned downward toward the boy as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

The boy gave a faint smile as instead of the glittering stars, his eyes focused on her glittering expression, "Good morning, Sunshine!" He greeted just as brightly.

The highlight of his day had arrived! The only things he really looked forward to were these moments that he got to spend with this girl.

Ava had been his friend and playmate for eight years. Of those eight, she had been his best friend and companion for five, and just a few months ago, she had agreed to taking it a step further and starting an actual romantic relationship with him. Her answer had both surprised the boy and elated him. Ever since middle school, he'd had a bit of a crush on her, but he never thought she could actually like him back.

As he grinned up at her with what he was sure to be the most ridiculous expression ever, he still couldn't believe how lucky he was.

"Mind if I join you?" Ava asked with a soft smile.

"Not at all," He answered, "Though, I'm afraid I'm being incredibly boring tonight. My telescope is already packed and I didn't feel like breakin' it out again, so . . ."

"Well, lucky for you, I didn't come for the stars." She scoffed as she lowered herself to sit with the lounging boy. "Just one star. Just mine." As she settled, she pulled her purple sweater tighter around her shoulders. It was actually starting to get pretty cold at night. It was definitely getting closer to the winter months. Sometimes, she wondered how her friend was able to come out in weather like this wearing shorts, but on most nights, like tonight, she let it go. With a bit of a grin, she reached out a finger and poked at his nose in a playful attack.

The boy chuckled as he grabbed at the girl's fingers, trapping them within his own, "Wow, that was cheesy, even for you."

"Well, It's not like I was going for poet of the year or anything. Can't you just pretend to be flattered like a normal person?"

"Well, look who you're talkin' to. Since when have _I_ ever been normal."

"I guess you do have a point there." She giggled again as she leaned over the boy, touching her forehead to his in a sign of affection.

"So," The boy hummed, relishing in the moment, "No Kara today?"

"Mm-mm." Ava answered with a bit of her own hum, "She had somewhere to be."

"Well what about Ike? Ali?"

"Nope. Those two are actually on a date. But they all said they'd be there to see you off tomorrow. So, there's that. And that means we have the hill to ourselves! Can you believe it?"

The boy chuckled at the good fortune. "Heh, well, in that case . . ."

In an instant, the boy shifted, reaching upward where Ava still had her forehead against his to gently cradle her jaw and draw her in for a full kiss.

They stayed that way for a moment that felt like forever, but eventually, they parted and the girl raised a hand to her face in an attempt to cover up her massive blush. The boy's smile spread as he watched. This was so much better than stargazing! The only thing better than making her laugh was making her blush like that. It filled him with a sense of pride knowing that he could do both.

"God, I'm gonna miss you." Ava hummed as she combed that same stray lock of hair out of her face. "Promise me you'll write when you get settled in?"

"Of course!" He responded, "I promise."

"And that you'll take care of yourself, and that you'll remember to have some fun every once in a while?"

"Heh, I promise."

"And that you won't forget me?"

The boy stalled for a moment, pushing up to lean on his elbow as he turned to face the girl at his side. Her eyes had lowered and even though she tried to keep a smile in place, he could sense the actual fear in her expression.

"Hey." He began quietly, "Hey, look at me. What makes you think I could ever forget you?"

"Just promise me, okay? Don't forget."

He sighed, "Fine. I promise."

"Oh, stop _lying_ to the poor girl!" Said a gruff voice from a slight distance, "What makes you think that you could go around making promises, when you know good and well that you won't be able to keep them!" The comment was followed by the sharp laughter of cronies.

Right away, the two recognized the tone and immediately, any cheer of the moment was siphoned away.

"C'mon, Surl." The boy groaned, "Could we not do this today?"

"Ha! Nice try, runt!" The taller, more muscular, and more intimidating tresspasser chided. "We know it's your last day here before you ship out to Ebott. We just wanted to come see you off, that's all. Just like your girl. How's it goin' Ava? Have you gotten rid of all your fleas yet, dog-face?"

The smaller boy's expression fell drastically as a nudge of frustration and anger began to grate on the edges of his nerves. Even through his own sour temper, he noticed the hand in his tighten and even begin to tremble a bit. Before he could react, Ava released him and was up on her feet.

"What the actual hell, Surl!?" She bit, her hands turning to fists at her sides, "What did we ever do to you!? Look, we're not bothering anyone so why don't you and your flunk-out rejects follow suit like the sheep you are and leave us alone!"

Surl burst out in laughter, inciting the others in a raucous chorus. "Oh, the bitch has bite!" He grinned, "I dunno, maybe she has potential after all!" With a few more steps forward, he addressed the boy who had yet to stand.

"Is that how it is then? You gonna let your girl handle your fights for you. From the look of it, she's got more balls than you've ever handled in your life!"

The boy growled as he pushed himself up to climb to his feet. Honestly, he didn't care about these jerks or what they decided to say about _him_. His real issue was what they said about Ava. He stood completely with his hands in his pockets to hide the intense fury in his fists. He could feel the rage welling up again. He could feel it lighting his soul on fire and he could feel that fire coursing through his body by way of his blood. It was happening again . . .

. . . and at this rate, it was going to boil over before he could get control over it.

"What? No words, _Sans_?"

The boy remained silent, as he set a stony gaze toward the jerk in front of him. The fists in his pockets tightened even more as he tried to suppress his temper. Normally, he had a pretty laid back disposition . . . but this guy always seemed to bring out the worst of him.

"Okay then," the taller of the two continued, "let's see just how much you can do without, shall we? So far, you are Sans-script!"

"Sans- balls!" Said another of the faceless group of Surl's followers.

"Sans- spine!" Said another meek-minded follower.

With every jab, the group stepped forward, crowding him and Ava and cutting off any hope of escape.

"Sans- life."

"Sans- purpose."

Soon, they were standing right in front of Ava and in front of him.

"Now what will you be when you hitch it on out of here tomorrow?"

"Sans-hope."

"Sans-home."

"Sans- protection!"

Surl took a final step forward, locking his dark narrow slits for eyes with the boy, "Sans-Ava!"

In the next moment, there was a shriek from beside him as Ava was plucked from his side. Surl had taken her wrist and pulled her away. In a quick move, he removed her glasses and tossed them off to the side.

"See, there we go! This, I can actually work with! Now, I dunno. After I'm through here, you might not even have a girlfriend to write to. You can forget all about her without any worries."

Ava, pulled against Surl, using her fists and her feet to punch and kick him, though it seemed not to do much in her favor.

"Let me go, Surl!" She bit, "You rat bastard!"

"You've got a feisty one here." Surl laughed, "I like that. More fun that way."

"You heard the lady." The boy growled, "Get your filthy paws _off_ of her, asshole!"

In his voice was a low rumble as more of that latent rage bubbled to the surface. "Let her go, or I _promise_ you're gonna have a bad time!"

Surl looked back to the boy, his dark grin never fading, "O-ho-holy shit it speaks! Go on, say something else! You're a jokester, right? Why don't you tell us a joke? If you make me laugh, _maybe_ I'll let you have your little girlfriend back."

A dark smile pulled on the boy's face. He could feel it as the rage took over completely.

"A joke, huh?" The boy chuckled, taking his left hand out of its pocket and showing off the impressive blue glow. As he extended his hand, he grabbed hold of Surl's soul and held it tight within his grip. "How about this? Go to Hell!"

In a swift movement of the boy's hand, Surl was ripped from Ava and thrown airborne. The boy released his grip over the soul as the other reached the peak of the throw, letting gravity take over as he plummeted toward the ground.

From his side, Ava gripped at his sleeve, "No!" She pleaded, "Please, you're better than that!"

"It's what he deserves!" The boy argued with a fearsome snap to his voice, "After all this time, all of these years of him tormenting us. Tell me this isn't what he deserves!"

Ava hesitated. She had never seen him like this before. She'd never witnessed his rage or the blue glow in his eyes or in his hands. He was like the monsters from their books. The sight frightened her.

"Please. If you do. That doesn't make you any better than he is! Be the bigger man here! Don't stoop to his level."

The boy paused as he watched Surl speeding toward the ground, after a moment or two, he let out a growling moan, and recaptured the soul seconds before he could hit the ground, "I'm so _sick_ of being the bigger man! Why can't guys like me ever have any fun!"

As he set Surl on the ground, he kept the soul tight in his grip. He approached with slow and careful steps, having to glare slightly upward to look the other in the eye.

"How was that?" He posed, the smile still pulling at the corners of his mouth, "Funny enough for you?"

Surl remained silent as he found himself face to face with the boy he would constantly tease and bully. He found that in a reversal of fate and of roles, he was genuinely terrified of the boy.

"No? Then how about this one!? It's sure to _bowl_ you over!"

With a pulse and a push, Surl was sent flying backward into his group of lackeys and he crashed into them as if they were pins in a bowling lane.

"Still not laughing?" The boy chided, taking more steps forward, the soul still in his hands as he approached again, "See, cause _I_ thought that was _hilarious_! Wasn't that funny, Ava?"

But when he turned back to see his friend, he found her with her face turned away. She refused to see what was going on.

"You're better than this, Sans." She mumbled.

His smile faded instantly. Ava knew how much he hated that name. She'd promised not to call him by it.

Was she that upset with him that she would go back on that promise?

With a scowl in place, he turned back to the pile.

"Had enough? Well, I suggest you leave Ava and me alone from now on, or else I will personally see to it that you take a flying leap off of the tallest building in town! Got it, bud?"

With the threat looming overhead, the boy released the soul. Immediately, Surl and the others scrambled for footing and stumbled to their feet. The lackeys ran off spitting "mage" and "freak" and "monster" back at him as they ran. Surl remained for a beat longer as he found his balance again.

"Don't think this is over, _Sans_!" He bit as he backed away. "Far from it!"

Even as he turned to follow the others, Surl couldn't hide the darker wet spot staining the front of his jeans.

The boy took a certain pleasure in watching as his long-time-bully awkwardly stumbled away.

Once he was gone, the boy let his magic fade as he turned back around to find Ava. She was sitting with her back turned to him. Her head was lowered and she seemed small as she curled in around herself.

"Hey, Ava?" He asked, coming up to stand behind her, "Are you okay?"

"How come you never told me you were a mage?"

The boy smiled sheepishly to himself, "Well, it's not somethin' people usually walk around waving on banners, you know? Mages are considered freaks, and genetic defects, and tools to be used in times of war. I didn't want you to see me like that."

"I wouldn't have cared . . ." She assured, still not daring to look at him, "If you had just told me before . . . with everything else we've shared with each other. You could've trusted me with this, too, couldn't you?"

He sat down next to the girl and let out a breath. "I . . . didn't want to burden you. It's kind of a big deal even _knowing_ a mage around here . . . But I'm still the same guy, see? I mean, seriously, look who you're talkin' to. Since when have _I_ ever really been 'normal'."

When the boy reached out to touch her fingers, Ava snatched her hand away and twisted it in her purple sweater.

"C'mon, Ava. Not you too! Don't be like that!"

When he reached out again, Ava pulled away from him and shifted to stand.

"Please, Sans. Don't touch me. Just . . . Give me a minute."

Again, the boy hesitated, his mouth falling open for a moment as he drew in a shaky breath.

"W-when . . . When did you start calling me that?"

Ava remained quiet as she shifted her attention upward again.

"Or maybe we can go back to stargazing?" The boy suggested as he followed the look. "C'mon! Let's put this behind us. We can get past this, can't we?"

"Look, I should be getting home. It's getting really late and . . ."

"I could take you."

"No, Sans." Ava hesitated, tearing her eyes from the stars, "I mean . . . No . . . It's okay. I can walk myself. I'll . . . I'll tell Kara and the others that you said goodbye. Just . . . Be safe tomorrow. Don't forget to write when you get settled. I'll see you around."

"Ava, no! I was just trying to teach them a thing or two. Give them a taste of their own medicine . . . Especially after what he said about you . . . It just . . . I couldn't afford to just stand there and do nothing."

"Oh, don't pretend like what you did was somehow chivalrous! Like you were somehow doing it for me!"

"But . . . I _was_ doing it for you! Look, they could say whatever they want about me and I wouldn't care . . . But what they said about you, I just . . ."

"You enjoyed it!" Ava accused. "When you had Surl in your magic and you tossed him like a ball into the air, you were _smiling_! You liked it! And knowing that you could end his life whenever you wanted just by letting go . . . You were acting like a _monster_!"

"Ava . . . I . . ."

"What are you? Answer me that. And answer truthfully."

The boy hesitated once again as he thought it over. And the more he thought, the more he had to admit that she was right. He did enjoy watching Surl as a puppet in his hands. But . . . That didn't change anything. He was still . . .

"I'm still me. I'm still the same guy. I haven't changed! You just know that I'm a mage now, that's all!"

Ava closed her eyes slowly and shook her head. "You're lying. You have this power and so far, you've only used it to threaten and to cause fear! That's not the you I know. And if _that_ 's the you that's always been, then . . . I've made a huge mistake."

The boy was rendered speechless. He knew what was happening as much as he knew there wasn't anything he could do to stop it.

"I'm sorry." Was all he was able to get out.

"Goodbye, Sans."

Ava left after that, being sure to scoop up her glasses on her way out, but otherwise, not looking back. She didn't look back toward the boy after that. And as she retreated, the boy could only watch. He didn't call out to her and he didn't try to stop her. If she was only going to see him as a mage and a . . . a monster, then she . . .

She could . . .

The boy laid back again and looked up toward the stars. So beautiful and far beyond his reach. He'd managed once to catch a falling star that shone brighter than the sun . . . and as she walked away that night, leaving him alone on the hill, he realized he'd let it slip through his fingers.

At least these stars weren't going anywhere. At least they were still . . .

His vision became blurry as his eyes welled up and he fought with himself to keep his composure. Ultimately, he covered his eyes as he lost that fight.

That night, he had truly become "sans" just like Surl and the others said. He'd lost everything.

Everything except that far-away concept of "tomorrow"

* * *

 **"** Brother!" Papyrus called, trying to gently shake the unresponsive Skeleton awake. Several minutes had already passed since Sans was rendered unconscious and with every moment that passed, Papyrus was getting more worried.

The alarms continued to shriek, adding to Papyrus' panic.

And on top of those things, there was Gaine, who kept pacing, looking between the body of the human girl and the two Skeletons on the ground.

He was still reeling over everything he saw. There had to be an explanation that made sense.

Serif . . . was Gaster's apprentice, his trusted associate . . . did he know what Sans was hiding? Surely, he had to. But then . . . with a human soul . . . how has Serif even been able to . . .

Maybe he was Gaster's side-project. Maybe Gaster had implanted the soul into Serif himself in order to study the effects. But the one thing that didn't make sense to him was if human souls are supposed to be so much stronger than monster souls . . . then why was Serif so incredibly weak. He only had 2 HP! How was he not dead already?

There had to be answers. There had to be. And the person who could give them to him was most likely the doctor. Gaine fought with himself. He knew he should call the doctor. He needed to know what happened.

The one thing that prevented him was the look of the human further down the hall. The girl that Serif had been so passionate about, the one who was now, wrapped up in his jacket, lying in a pool of her own blood with her soul floating above her. How was he going to explain that? How was he going to justify the death of their specimen?

Maybe he could spin the "self defense" angle. Or maybe he could say that he was only trying to hinder her escape- injure her but not kill her. After all, she was human. She could have turned them all to dust if she so wished it. He couldn't afford not to take extra precautions. If he could catch her and bring her back to her cell, then that would have been ideal, but he just couldn't. And Serif got caught up in it and that's how he ended up this way . . . It was a damned shame, but it just couldn't be helped.

Yeah, that's what he would say.

It could work . . . and the only thing he would really have to worry about was . . .

The experiment was still trying to wake Serif, calling his name and shaking him in hopes of getting him to respond. But for as long as it had been calling, nothing seemed to come of it. That project . . . Serif had called it something else- he'd given it a name- not only that, but the project had called Serif its "brother" . . . which, in actuality, fed into the theory that Serif was another of Gaster's projects. Either way, there was definitely something screwy going on.

Taking a deep breath, Gaine came to a decision.

Making his way swiftly through the hall, doing his best not to look at the human, Gaine found a wall phone at the very end. Picking up the receiver and pressing a button, the overhead system popped to life and his own voice thundered through the halls.

 **"DOCTOR GASTER, PLEASE REPORT TO THE SOUTH HALL OF BASEMENT LEVEL 2. DOCTOR GASTER TO BASEMENT LEVEL 2."**

With that out of the way, Gaine tuned his attention, instead, to the Skeletons.

That thing . . . The experiment . . . If it could talk now . . . it really could pose a problem.

"Oh, give it a rest, would you!?" Gaine snapped as Papyrus continued to call, "Obviously, he's not waking up any time soon. So stop your whining!"

"But he has to wake up!" Papyrus argued, "He _has_ to!" And he continued to cry out for Sans, shaking him in an attempt to get him to wake. "Brother, wake up!"

"Why do you keep calling him that?" Gaine groaned, "It's getting annoying."

"Because he . . . is my brother! We take care of each other. Sans . . . stood up for me and protected me when no one else would. Even against Dr. Gaster."

Gaine scoffed, "'Protected' you!? _You_ needed protection. Heh, well, from Gaster, I'm not surprised . . . but who would even think to stand up for you after you —"

Papyrus shot a dark look toward Gaine. Seeing it, Gaine's expression fell as well.

"That reminds me." He continued in a low voice, "When Gaster does get here, _I'll_ be doing the talking. So you just keep quiet, got it?"

Papyrus narrowed his eyes as he glared back at Gaine with a suspicious look. "Alright then," he answered, "I will . . . under one condition."

Gaine's ears perked. A caveat, is it? From the experiment? "Name your terms."

"You tell the truth."

In response, Gaine raised his brows, "That's it?"

Papyrus nodded, "If you don't, I'll know." There was a faint orange glow coming from Papyrus' eyes now as his expression became more intense. "You're already hurt. I don't want to hurt you more."

"Was that a _threat_!?" Gaine hissed as he took another step forward, "How about this for terms: You shut up and let me handle this, or I make sure your 'brother' never wakes up. He only has 2 HP anyway. I could just do him in right now and say it was an accident! That he got in the way when the two of us were fighting."

"Don't you _dare_ hurt Sans!" Papyrus glared, his orange glow becoming brighter as he raised a hand against Gaine, "You stay away from him!"

Around Papyrus, more dis-articulated bones began to appear and he aimed them all at Gaine, who had been steadily approaching. He didn't feel at all comfortable with Gaine or the way he was grinning at Sans.

"Stay back!" Papyrus pressed as he prepared one of his bones to throw if Gaine so much as took another step forward.

He didn't have to. In his spot, Gaine froze when he heard the approach of several pairs of footsteps coming to close in on them. A dark smirk pulled at his mouth as he thought about what this would look like to the rest of them. He may not need a story after all. He would let them create it for themselves.

There were a few gasps as the others took in the scene and tried to make sense of it all.

"What the—"

"The human!?"

"Who got _that_ thing back up and running!?"

"What did it do to Sans!?"

"Gaine, are you okay?"

Stepping to the front of the crowd was Gaster, his gloved hands fisted at his sides as he quickly surveyed the immediate area. In short, it was a scene from a nightmare.

Papyrus seemed ready to attack, his magic and bones floating about his airspace; Gaine, who already seemed injured, whose clothes looked torn and burned, standing to oppose him; Sans . . . what in the world!? He was covered in blood, his jacket removed and his shirt in tatters as a faintly glowing soul floated in his rib cage . . . wait! A _HUMAN_ soul!?

Then maybe he'd actually done it! Maybe he'd managed to . . .

No . . . that wasn't quite right. If that were the case, if he had absorbed the human's soul, then he should have been completely transformed.

No.

Gaster CHECKED Sans right then and there, never minding the other curious eyes around.

0.23/2

Right away, there were sounds of shock, among them was a gasp and an utterance of "Oh my god"

Gaster remained silent as something in him gripped tightly, making it difficult to breathe. At the same time, something else seemed to pull all of his other senses in every direction at once.

When he was able to channel through to the important things, his eyes fell onto Papyrus who seemed to be holding tightly onto Sans as if trying to protect him. Immediately, Papyrus dismissed his attack and his magic died down.

"Do you have it?" Gaster asked almost harshly, his tone dripping with anger though his volume remained at something just above a whisper.

Papyrus flinched at the accusation. Of course, he already knew exactly what the doctor meant . . . Sans' missing HP . . . And as he dropped his head, turning his eyes away, he nodded slowly.

"Get away from him." Gaster demanded. "Don't touch him again. Not unless you want to kill him."

Papyrus' eyes went wide as he considered what Gaster was implying.

"I . . . I didn't mean to!" He protested, still gripping to the tattered ends of Sans' shirt. The surprise from the remaining assistants at the fact that he was speaking went unnoted as he continued, "He was just so . . . Angry and when the human died . . . He . . . Was using so much magic . . . I had to catch him. I couldn't let him fall. But he was still using so much magic . . . I didn't mean to."

As he explained, Papyrus shifted, releasing Sans and leaving him be as Gaster stepped forward once again. Gaster took Sans again and propped him up. In a moment, Gaster used his own magic to heal Sans back up to his new Max HP.

It was absolutely effortless. It should never be that easy to heal another monster. Just with a simple touch, with the minimal amount of energy.

But then again . . . Sans was no monster, was he?

That human soul inside of him, what was that? What did that mean!? How did he get such a thing!? And what did that make Sans, exactly!?

Gaster looked up, scanning the room once again. He was already aware of the glowing on the far side of the hall and he knew what it must have implied . . . and Papyrus, in his rambling, had just confirmed his suspicions . . . the human was dead . . . all before he'd ever had the chance to do with it what he had been planning . . .

He had even had a plan for the human's death . . . and apparently that hadn't happened the way he wanted either.

He let out a deep breath . . . one problem at a time.

"Gaine!" Gaster called, "What the hell happened here!? Explain!"

"Of course, Doctor." Gaine began with a slight nod of his head, "Let me preface it by saying it's been a very long night. And we've all been on edge lately."

"I don't care about that!" Gaster answered tersely, "I want to know what happened _here_!"

Gaine's ears drew back and fell flat against his head as he drew in a breath. Okay, he hadn't been expecting that reaction. Fine right to the point. Bullet point version it is. "Oh, of course. Then quickly: Serif snuck into the lab and somehow got the human out of her holding cell."

"He swiped my name badge and used that." Maltez supplied, "I see it there in his pocket."

Indeed, when Gaster inspected the pocket, he retrieved the keycard with Maltez' name and face on it. He looked down again at the . . . whatever he was in his arms, still unconscious, and a completely new feeling began to descend over Gaster. He felt betrayed and disgusted that his most cherished and trusted associate would be responsible for this fiasco. What exactly was he up to? Why would he do something like this . . . ? The Sans he knew would never jeopardize results like this. Something here was very wrong.

"He must have used my override code then . . ." Gaster said quietly to himself, though it didn't take much for the others to be able to hear, especially after Ruddard disabled the alarm using his own code and the hall fell into an uneasy silence as the events unfolded. "It would have been the only way to disable the barrier using an assistant's badge."

Gaine nodded as he continued, "I have no doubt that Serif was attempting to help the human escape. When I came down for my shift watching over the human, I realized she was gone and I immediately left to go look for her. I found her here and Serif was leading her by the hand. I couldn't let them go so easily. I attempted to stop them, but the human got in the way. She was badly injured."

"You attacked them unannounced." Papyrus corrected.

Gaine snapped a look up to the Skeleton standing against the wall furthest away from the crowd. The others were still astonished and rightfully fearful of him and they kept their distance, even clustering together to avoid him.

Papyrus crossed his arms, keeping his eyes averted.

"Well, yes," Gaine answered through clenched teeth, "I couldn't risk the human knowing I was there. She has already killed several monsters after all, according to the Royal Guard's reports. If I could subdue her with as little risk as possible, then that was what I was going to do. But I never meant for things to get so out of hand. Serif went ballistic and tried to heal the human using candy – of all things – and that's when _this_ . . . guy showed up!" Gaine took a moment to gesture toward Papyrus, "He attacked me while I was trying to subdue Serif."

Through the groans of the other assistants, Papyrus dropped his arms, ready to correct Gaine again.

"That was a warning shot! It did no damage to you if you remember! You were going to attack my brother! I could not allow you to!"

"Papyrus!" Gaster interjected, "Did you attack Gaine?"

Wait, Gaster knew it's name?

Papyrus hesitated, "It was not an attack! It was –"

"Papyrus! Yes or no?"

Papyrus frowned and lowered his gaze again, "Yes. Only because he was threatening Sans."

Again, there were disapproving sounds from the assistants.

"And Gaine, did you attack Sans?"

"No, at the time, my objective was to incapacitate the human and my actions were to prevent Serif from healing her. After all she needed to be kept alive, but weakened, correct?"

Gaster nodded, "Continue."

"Well, my attack was too strong for the human and she bled until she died . . . and that's when Serif completely lost it . . . it was terrifying. He lashed out, sending blasts of pure energy at me. _He_ was the one who was aiming to kill. _He_ was the one who did all this to me. He threw me against the walls and –"

"That's quite enough." Gaster interrupted. " So it was Sans who did the actual attacking tonight. Papyrus, is this true?"

Papyrus hesitated again, but Gaine had spoken the truth and he could not deny it.

"It's the truth," He admitted in a dejected tone, "I have never seen Sans so angry before . . . He was so upset that the human was killed."

"Ava." Gaine answered, a certain darkness shadowing the name.

"Excuse me?" Gaster imposed. The new information striking him as interesting.

"The human's name . . . Serif made sure I knew that her name was Ava . . . along with some other very coarse things. I suppose the two of them were friends. With a reaction like his, it wouldn't be surprising."

Gaster took another look down at Sans and his expression fell once again.

"What the hell . . . ?"

There were too many questions surrounding him.

He had to get to the bottom of it.

With a deep breath, Gaster released Sans, letting him lie on the ground.

"We will need two gurneys and a container for the soul. In the morning, the human's body will be delivered to the capital along with the green and yellow souls. The purple will remain here until we can find sufficient answers."

"But . . . Doctor?" Maltez asked, "I thought you wanted to fully examine the human. If that's the case, why send them to the capital?"

"The human is of no use to me any longer . . . and in light of recent discoveries, that is probably for the better . . ." He took another look to the unconscious person at his feet, "Besides, now we have a far more interesting specimen. The second gurney will be for him. He will be taken to the examination room adjacent to observations and he will be restrained."

"Papyrus. You will stay. I will have to take you to the holding cell until further notice."

"But, Doctor Gaster! I did nothing wrong! Can't I just go to my room? I promise I won't—"

"Absolutely not!" Gaster snapped as a bit more information slipped through than he had intended . . . now the others would know that Papyrus had been living in the lab long enough to have his own room. Assuming that they extrapolated that information on their own, which, of course, was child's play for his team. "I cannot have you out at this time. Not while we examine . . . While we examine Sans. Now, you all have your assignments. Let's get to work."

At once, the assistants turned to head back down the hallway, splitting the work among themselves. More than once, glances were shot backward toward Gaster and the remains of the scene and they wondered what could possibly be going through Gaster's mind as he stood and attempted to retain his composure.

As Gaine stepped away to join the others, Gaster stopped him.

Gaine hesitated, but stopped all the same. Gaster was being unusually calm about this entire mess, and, for some reason, this unnerved Gaine more than he cared to admit. He had been expecting Gaster to be absolutely furious . . . and maybe he was . . . then again, maybe he wasn't . . . It was not knowing that really concerned Gaine the most.

"Gaine, I feel as if I owe you an apology." Gaster sighed.

Gaine tilted his head slightly at the confession. Now that was something he _really_ hadn't been expecting. He had killed the human and injured Gaster's little pet. Why would Gaster possibly feel the need to apologize to him?

"I got so caught up in the "what" and the "why" of all of this mess that I never asked about you. I see that Sans really did a number on you. Are you alright, Gaine?"

"Oh! Well, yeah. I mean, I'm in a better spot than Serif anyway."

Gaster hummed in acknowledgment and in contemplation as he took a step toward Gaine. As he approached, Gaster raised a hand, again using his magic to heal his assistant. It seemed as if Sans had been able to take a significant amount of HP from Gaine and it took significantly more effort to heal him back to full HP, but it was still no matter to Gaster.

"I want you to go home, Gaine." Gaster said solemnly.

Again, Gaine was shocked, "Wait, what!? No! I can still help here. I'm okay."

"Be that as it may, until we can figure out exactly what happened here and the nature of it all, I cannot allow you to stay on this project. After all, you were responsible for the death of the human. I have to take that into consideration. I specifically said that the human was to be kept alive. Did it not occur to you that there was a reason for that? If you really wanted to "incapacitate" said human, you could have simply broken both of their legs! It would have prevented them from moving forward. There was absolutely no need to attack the way you did! I also saw the nick taken out of Sans' ribs and the splintering in his hand before they were healed. Though I do understand that it is possible that you were acting in self defense when Sans attacked, I did ask you a direct question: Did you attack Sans? You told me no. You lied to make yourself look better in front of the others, hoping that I would not take notice. If you hadn't, well, we would be having a very different conversation."

Gaine drew in a breath, unable to come up with a decent response. So much for the apology.

"So what does that mean for me?" Gaine asked darkly.

"It means that you are to return home and not return to the lab until I say otherwise. Leave your jacket and your badge. I will call you when we have need of your assistance."

Gaine's mouth fell open. "You're suspending me? For a mistake?"

"We will see how much of a mistake it was when we examine the human's body before sending her to the Capital."

"That's absurd! You know what this sounds like!? This sounds like you're choosing your little pet projects over your dedicated team . . . again! You take care of them and treat them with a higher priority than you do us on any given day! Every single time! And if this is an issue of lying, then take a look at that . . . creature at your feet. He was suspended _weeks_ ago. Why is he even here? Why do you not seem surprised that he is? I don't even think he's a real monster! Not with a soul like _that_! How long has he been lying to you about that, I wonder? Not only did he know the name of the human girl, but he was caught trying to help your precious specimen escape. And yet, in spite of all of that, you hold him to a higher level than you do any of the rest of us!"

Through Gaine's tirade, and as mistake after monumental mistake was piled on, Gaster's expression remained even as he looked back on his assistant.

"You are suspended for now, Gaine." Gaster answered in a tone just as even, "Do you want to shoot for termination?"

Gaine huffed as he clenched and un-clenched his fists, but he remained silent. Instead, he removed his lab coat and dropped it at Gaster's feet, making sure his dark glare pierced straight through the doctor.

As Gaine stormed off, taking his leave, he didn't bother to look back at Gaster or his pets.

* * *

The boy continued on campus with a ketchup packet hanging out of his mouth. Really, it wasn't much of a meal, but until he could start work at the hot dog stand in the food court, condiment sandwiches and packets would just have to do. Classes hadn't started yet, but the few days at Mt. Ebott University had treated the boy relatively well. He'd gotten his class schedule already and he'd found his dorm, though his roommates wouldn't be in until later that day or the next.

He was eager to meet his roommates. Though, he was more excited that he didn't have to squat anymore. For the semester, at least, that dorm was _his_. At least for the semester, it was _home_.

He'd even been lucky enough to meet up with the dean of the science department, the one to whom he'd written about the scholarship that got him into this place! Really, he was a decent man, stolid on the outside, but a total softy inside. He seemed genuinely excited to have him majoring in his department and freely expressed that he expected great things from him.

The dean and roommates aside, the boy was on a mission. As promised, he'd written a letter to Ava. He was unsure of whether or not she would read it and he doubted he would get a response back, but at the very least, he would be keeping his promise to her. Maybe that would be enough . . . Maybe she would write back. Maybe they could rekindle what they had.

Determined and filled with hope, the boy crossed campus to mail his letter.

"Hey!" Called a voice from somewhere behind him, "Hey, kid!"

At first, he ignored the call. After all, he could've been talking to anyone. Mt. Ebott had a pretty big campus and a large student base.

"Heya, Kid! With the ketchup!"

Yup. He was definitely talking to him. At the confirmation, the boy turned around to address the approaching . . . This guy was human, wasn't he? He was a towering man, easily at least a foot and a half taller than he was, making him approximately 6' 11" or maybe even pushing 7 feet. The guy was a giant!

"Hey," The boy replied, "Sorry, didn't know you were talkin to me."

"Yeah, it's a big place. But hey, I saw you comin' from the north tower just now. Is your dorm over that way?"

The boy thought it over, deciding whether or not to give a truthful answer. That was kind of an odd question for a complete stranger to ask, right? Or maybe he was lost?"

"Yeah, I'm in the 200s."

"Aw, yeah? Really? Me too. 213."

The boy's expression shifted, "Ha! So cool! That means we're roomies!" He shifted again, moving his book and his letter into one hand as he reached the other out to shake the giant's, "Put 'er there, bud!"

The giant smiled and shook his hand, depositing something there as well, a folded piece of paper. When he felt the object in his hand, the boy frowned slightly, curious and a little alarmed. What the heck did he give him? He opened his fist to see the folded paper . . . a note?

"Go ahead and read that now."

The boy did, curiosity outweighing his apprehension. He unfolded the paper and directed his attention to the chicken scratch written upon it.

"I know who you are. I know what you are. The name's Burl and I hear you've been pushin' my little bro around. Time to pay up."

The boy shifted his attention again to the giant, but instead of the hope and determination from before, he was now filled with dread.

"Ah, that's right. Didn't think you'd have to deal with us after you left home, right? Thought you could get away with that shit you pulled? Well, you were wrong, _bud_. Now, here's what's gonna happen. You're gonna follow me and you're get what you got comin' to ya. You're not gonna make a fuss about it or raise attention and you're not gonna try to get out of it."

"And wh-why would I do that?" The boy questioned, finding a bit of his nerve as he stood his ground. "What's to stop me from doing the same thing to you?"

"Oh, that's sad." The giant chuckled, "No one ever told you how to pick your fights, did they? You messed with the wrong guy's little bro and now, you're gonna pay for it!"

"Nothing would've happened if your 'bro' didn't start it in the first place! I was only giving back all the mess he gave me since the fifth grade! Plus a little interest!"

"Shut up with all the excuses! You're comin' with me and don't think you're gettin' out of it! Get 'im, Snare!"

Right away, the boy noticed a tightened grip over his soul and with that, he found that he was frozen in his spot, unable to move. When he looked downward, he could see the faintly purple glow from under his jacket. Damn it! Another mage.

"Well, get going!" Said another shallow voice that sounded as if it came from his nose. "You heard the guy! I'll make sure you don't stray from the path!"

As the boy was led away, he fell into contemplation. There had to be a way out of this mess as well. He dealt with Surl for most of his life, surely, he could deal with his brother too. The only difference, he knew next to nothing about the giant except his name and that he had a mage friend with purple magic.

They led the boy to a place far off from the main areas of campus and as they traveled, the boy noticed how many more of Burl's gang there were that he didn't notice before. Even if he didn't have the purple hold on his soul, preventing him from stepping off of the predetermined path, he doubted he would've gotten very far if he had tried to run.

They continued on until they reached the part of the grounds where the school met the sprawling forest. Peaking through the tops of the trees was the towering peak of a mountain, looming and ominous as they approached.

"Here's far enough!" Burl instructed.

With a harsh shove, the one called Snare released the hold on the boy's soul, but only because he was surrounded and would not have been able to escape.

From his knees, the boy looked up at the giant, and from his lowered position, he seemed even taller, more intimidating. When Burl turned around and directed his gaze on the boy in front of him, it was with a dark sadistic grin and immediately, the boy knew he was in trouble.

He stood quickly to face his opponent. So it was a fight. And the others . . . were they spectators? Were they there to watch the show . . . or were they . . . Going to help?

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Burl began, using his voice to carry across to all those who came to witness his little show, "What we have here is what we call a Class A Coward in its natural habitat. Note that when upset, the coward tends to lash out without a care as to who or what is in its way. I must advise those of you who cannot fight or who don't fight to keep your distance as this is a very volatile specimen.

The boy's eyes darted around to the surrounding crowd. He was being forced on display like an animal. Within moments, he was able to piece together what Burl was up to. He was going to force him into exposing himself as a mage. Already, he could feel the magic flowing once again and though, he tried to suppress it for as long as he could, it continued to fill him. Instead of the intense rage from before, threatening to consume his being in fire, however, the burn this time was stemmed from the very primal desire of self preservation.

Put simply, if he wanted to survive this battle, he would _need_ his magic. And so he let it flow. He felt it pool into his hands as he focused his attention forward.

"Exhibit A: Note now that this particular Coward has the ability to use magic. Blue magic, it would seem. And if it isn't properly monitored, it could throw a person several stories into the air, or force him into the ground by gripping onto his soul."

The boy flexed his fingers, the magic in his hands flickering indecisively in and out of focus.

"L-look, Burl." The boy interjected, instead, choosing to ACT. Maybe there was still a way to get through to him. "We don't have to do this! I don't want to fight you! Is it an apology you want? I'm sorry, okay!? I'm sorry about what happened with Surl. I shouldn't have taken out my frustrations on him. Can we please put an end to this!"

"Oh, I intend to put an end to it, alright." Burl hissed, in a voice he knew wouldn't carry past the two of them. "Just you wait. Though, you could do with a bit more begging. It's a good look on you."

He turned again toward the onlookers, addressing them as his lecture hall once again. "As you can see, the natural fight or flight instinct in this specimen has shifted as it begins to beg for its life. Unable to escape and faced with its own inevitable defeat, the Coward begins to bargain. Now, ladies and gentlemen, I will leave his fate to you! The specimen before you stands accused of harassment, assault, defamation of character, and conspiracy to commit murder by use of Blue magic."

"Murder!?" The boy cried, "You're _insane_! And I only fought Surl because he—"

"What did I say about excuses!?" Burl barked, "What did you _think_ would happen to my brother if you 'personally saw to it that he'd take a flying leap off of the tallest building in town'?"

There were gasps and "Ooooh"s as the onlookers listened in.

"But like I said," The giant continued, "The decision isn't up to me. What do you say, ladies and gentlemen? Should I show him MERCY?"

There was a sorely imbalanced response from the crowd responding in the negative. There were boos and shouts from the others as they passed their judgment.

"Or should this end in a FIGHT?"

There was a loud cheer in response and a chanting chorus of "Fight! Fight! Fight!" Began to ring through the trees.

"No!" The boy cried out, "That's not how it happened!"

"Do you deny saying those things to my little brother? Do you deny using your magic against another human?"

The boy went silent. It seemed as if talking was not going to do him any good. And at this point, MERCY was off the table as well. The magic came back in full force and he allowed it to fill him completely. It was as he thought. He would have to FIGHT. To even stand a chance against this guy, he would need his magic.

"Look!" Called an onlooker, "He really is going to use Blue magic on him!"

At the exclamation, the cheers became more enthusiastic as the excitement began to elevate.

"Folks, you saw it here first- and with your own eyes, no less! This vicious beast cannot be trusted and needs to be put down before he hurts anyone else!

"But I didn't hurt Surl! And I don't wanna hurt you!"

The giant laughed as he lowered his voice once again. "You say that as if you actually believe you can!"

Without another word, Burl initiated the battle. He raised his fists.

In response, the boy raised his as well. If this was going to be a battle of fists, he didn't stand a chance against this guy! He would, instead, need to outlast him. Maybe if the boy could wear him down, he might change his tune.

The boy dodged the initial attack, ducking and weaving through the jabs and punches that were meant for his face. If nothing else, the boy's ability to dodge and evade attack was incredible. But he didn't use it to attack. He kept his magic contained in his fists and fought so it wouldn't come out.

* * *

In accordance to Gaster's instructions, the fiasco of the hallway was quickly cleaned up. The human was put in a large bag and taken to one of the other examination rooms to await processing and documentation before they sent the body to the Capital. The assistants who took her noticed that she had large gaping wounds in her side and Sans' off-duty jacket had been used to try to keep her together. So, he really had been trying to help the human. An interesting thought.

The soul had been contained as well and taken along with the human to the examination room. May as well keep all of the parts together until Gaster specified what he wanted done with them.

The other issue was Sans. Again, according to Gaster's orders, he had been collected and taken to the largest examination room, where Gaster used to conduct instructive sessions. He would have the assistants stand in the observation room and take notes. After the experiment, they would often share notes and reach a mutual conclusion. But those experiments stopped when Gaster was given the soul project.

Now, it seemed, a similar project was about to take place, with Sans as the test subject. Understandably, the others seemed a bit uneasy about that. They were torn on how to even process what happened, much less, how to continue with what Gaster was suggesting.

But still, there was that driving side of every single one of them that thirsted for answers. Ever since it was revealed that Sans had a human soul within him, numerous questions and theories had arisen about him. Had he always had a human soul or is it something he acquired elsewhere? How long has he been keeping this secret from the rest of them? Did having a human soul automatically make him human?

Many of these questions were expressed while the group of them prepared Sans in the examination room, restraining him to the table by his wrists and ankles as Gaster instructed. The magic monitoring machine had also been clipped to his fingers and nodes had been affixed to his skull and one attached to his ribs, just above his soul. His human soul. The machine should be able to pick up the frequency from there, since they would not be able to physically reach his soul unless he died.

But Gaster couldn't afford to let Sans die . . . at least not until he answered for all of his deception and all of his lies.

When all of the preparations were made, the other assistants stood outside of the observation room, watching as Gaster began making his initial observations of Sans, speaking aloud as his disembodied hands, now with even larger holes to the point that it looked as if fingers would start to fall from the palm, began to jot notes for the doctor. From the other side of a large glass plane. The majority of the remaining assistants were speechless. There was just so much to take in. Still they tried to push aside their own shock as they took notes as well.

Sans . . . their friend and coworker was . . . was . . . well they didn't know what he was. He'd lied to them all for the past eight years. He had lied to Gaster for just as long, claiming to be one of them.

They had accepted the story without a second thought. Why would they ever have a reason to doubt him? They still couldn't believe what they were seeing. And they didn't know how to interpret it.

Just what was up with Sans? Why did he look like a Skeleton if he had a human soul . . . How could he even function? Was he a monster with a human soul or a human with a monster face? Either way, what was he trying to accomplish by trying to pass as one of them?

Is that why Sans had been slowing down recently? Was his human side wearing out?

Was that the reason why Sans couldn't stand to be around the other human souls? Why he had seemed so upset when the first little girl was found and Gaster didn't seem to care about her? Why he would completely shut down whenever a new soul was found? Had he taken it upon himself to personally mourn each soul, knowing that there would be no one else in the Underground who would?

"I can't imagine having to live a life like that." Baelin confessed, turning her face away, unable to watch any longer. She was of the mind that Sans may have been a human in disguise and hiding among them until the barrier was broken and he could return to his own life. "He must have been terrified. This whole time . . . hiding who he is and hoping to be accepted, knowing that the slightest slip could cause him his life. No wonder he had to tell all those lies . . . Oh God . . . you don't think that all of his jokes . . . ! He was trying so hard to make us smile . . . and that whole time he was scared out of his wits that we wouldn't accept him."

"That doesn't excuse what he did, Baelin." Maltez hummed, "Just because you've developed feelings for him, doesn't mean you should try to justify his actions."

"I _don't_ have feelings for Sans!" Baelin protested defiantly. Though the idea did cause her face to go warm momentarily.

"Mmm-hmm." Maltez groaned sarcastically, "Keep telling yourself that and let us know how that works for you."

"Regardless." Ruddard stepped in, tilting his head downward as he focused on not tearing his eyes away from the scene in the other room for even a second. "Baelin's feelings have nothing to do with the situation at hand. The issue we face is deciding what to _do_ with this information."

"Well, like it or not, we do have to admit one thing." Maltez came in again.

"W-What would that be?" Alphys posed, ringing her hands together as she watched Gaster work on her friend in the other room.

"Gaine was right about him," Maltez continued. "Serif _was_ hiding something. Something really huge. That and we still don't know why he's even here in the first place. If he is human, he could have turned on us at any second and we would all be dust."

"But Sans isn't like that!" Alphys argued.

"Oh really?" Maltez scoffed, "And Gaine must have just imagined the whole thing when Sans nearly killed him this morning! And Gaster must have treated him for 'phantom' injuries too, right?"

Alphys hesitated, taking the words into consideration. She didn't want to believe that Sans, of all people, could be capable of actually killing someone. But . . . the evidence was overwhelming and the scene she saw in the other room could not be ignored.

Alphys had been . . . well maybe 'suspicious' was too strong of a word . . . She had known there was something different about Sans ever since that night in the hall when she had managed to catch a glimpse of Sans' soul. The flash had been so bright and she had never seen a human soul before . . . so she had no idea in implications of what she was seeing and there had been little reason to delve further into the matter. Sans had been the closest thing to a real friend she had in the lab. He had always been the one who would listen to what she had to say without imposing his own opinion. He had always treated her like an equal, even when she was "just an intern". No matter the shape, or the color, or the unique vibe of his soul, Sans was still Sans and he was still her friend. He was still a decent guy!

He would never have done what everyone says he did . . . not without a good reason. Something terrible must have happened in order for him to snap the way he did.

"W-what do we know a-about the human s-soul? The newest one? The p-purple one?"

"Only that Serif was trying to help her escape." Maltez answered, "He stole my name badge and snuck through the halls with the human girl until Gaine caught them and tried to stop them. The human was killed during the fight and that's when Serif went crazy and tried to kill Gaine."

"Are we not going to mention the Skeleton in the room?" Ruddard asked, "There's also the matter of that experiment. The one we decommissioned all that time ago. Not only has it been activated again, but Serif has been keeping it secret, harboring it right under our noses and teaching it. It even calls Serif 'brother' And worse is that Dr. Gaster seems to have been aware of this the entire time. The experiment even has a name now. _It_ was the one who attacked Gaine first before the battle actually began. And when we arrived, it was trying to attack Gaine again."

"Wait, y-you mean P-Papyrus?" Alphys questioned, "But Papyrus _is_ Sans' brother! I've met him before. He wouldn't hurt anyone!"

The other assistants went deathly silent and a few shot disbelieving looks toward Alphys.

Something inside of Alphys seemed to grip tightly, "W-what . . . ?" She asked slowly, "W-what d-did I s-say?"

It was Baelin who answered this time, letting out a slow breath as she fought with what she was about to say.

"Oh, Alphys. I'm sorry, but that is not true at all. The experiment P-497305 has killed before . . . Before you started here, there was another assistant, a fox monster named Kit. She was training with the experiment, documenting its progress . . . and . . . it attacked her in cold blood. It killed her without hesitation. It's the reason there was an open position to hire you on board . . . we almost didn't fill the position, but the doctor needed the help."

Alphys covered her mouth as she gasped. She'd never heard any of this before, but at the way Baelin spoke about it and at the lack of protest from the other assistants, she had no choice but to believe that the story was true.

". . . I'm sorry," Baelin continued, "but _that_ 's the truth. The experiment can't be trusted . . . and neither, it seems can Sans . . . not if he introduced you to it as his brother and not after keeping it here for years . . . or even Dr. Gaster if he knew about it, _helped_ Sans keep it secret, and allowed it to operate . . . after everything its done." Baelin's voice caught and she went quiet. After a moment or two, she had to excuse herself from the room.

The others let her go without resistance.

Alphys was silenced as she turned her attention back to the scene in the other room. There was still so much she didn't understand. So many questions that needed answers. So many things that just . . . didn't add up!

"Where is Papyrus now?" She asked.

Both Ruddard and Maltez shot looks toward Alphys.

"I need to talk to him." Alphys insisted.

Ruddard let out a sigh, "The experiment is in the holding cell. The same cell where the human was being kept. But I can't say I recommend you talk to it. Not after what happened this morning."

"Don't worry about me." Alphys answered with confidence, "I know Papyrus. He won't hurt me."

Maltez hummed. "Well, have fun, then. But if you're going down there, you're on your own."

Alphys nodded, but as she turned to leave the observation room, a shrill noise stopped her and drew her attention back.

Something was happening to Sans!

* * *

"Why won't you stand still!?" Burl snarled as jab after jab missed its target. He was steadily becoming more frustrated with every failed attempt.

The boy continued to step back to evade. He watched every one of Burl's moves and predicted where the next blow was going to be and he used these predictions to create as sizable of a distance between them as he could possibly get. All the while, he was trying to find another way out of his predicament to little avail so far.

"What?" The boy breathed after avoiding another attack, "Did you think I was just going to stand there and take it?"

All around them, there was the constant chanting of the spectators, egging on the fight, but never doing anything to try to break it up. For them, this was one of the few bits of entertainment they had and it would not only be stupid, but irresponsible to get in the way of that. Of course, there was an obvious favorite to win, but over time, it seemed as if people were becoming more excited when the underdog would narrowly escape yet another direct jab that definitely should have hit. Soon, it seemed as if they were cheering just as much for him as they were for Burl.

This lasted for a few minutes with the boy successfully dodging everything thrown at him. Eventually, however, Burl seemed to get overly frustrated with the situation, feeling that he was not only losing the match, but the support of the crowd.

Something had to be done.

"Stay _still_ you slippery little . . . maggot! Someone, get him!"

It happened almost instantaneously. As the boy tried to inch away and create a larger distance, something intervened, making it more difficult to move . . . not more difficult . . . impossible.

No!

Something held tight to his soul and kept him from moving anywhere and when the boy looked down there was another glow from beneath his shirt. Green. A different mage then . . . ?

Shortly after, another color joined it. Blue this time. Yet another mage was holding him in place and suppressing his movements. The green magic held tight as the blue magic pinned him down. Even as he fought with the opposing magics, the boy was brought to his knees, unable to stand and unable to move. All the while, Burl closed that precious distance that he tried so hard to make and to maintain.

As the boy looked up at the taller man in front of him, his heartbeat jumped into his throat and his stomach sank. There really was no running this time. There was no way out. There was no escape . . .

He was trapped.

That burning drive began to well within him once again, stronger and more insistent than before.

He was afraid . . . and he could feel it in his limbs and in his fingers and in his legs, and deep within his very soul.

There was no one here . . . no one anywhere who would even think to help him. He was completely alone against Burl and an entire _army_ of his followers.

But why? There were other mages here, right!? More mages than he'd ever seen in one place in his entire life! Why would they do this to him? To a fellow mage?

As Burl stopped with his feet directly in front of the boy's face, he let out a dark chuckle.

"There we go." He chided, "That's a much better look on you! Down on your knees, whimpering like a dog at my feet. It suits you."

The boy panicked, his eyes were wide and his every breath was haggard.

"No!" He whispered to himself, as he attempted to weigh his options, "This can't . . . no!"

Burl drew back his foot, preparing for a harsh kick to the face. "Let's see you dodge this!"

"No, please! I never actually hurt anyone!"

The foot rushed back toward him at full speed, but to the boy, it may as well have been slow motion. In milliseconds, faster than the time it takes to blink an eye, he was able to analyze his situation. At that angle and with that force . . . Burl could actually kill him if he aimed his kick in the right spot.

"No! STOP!"

The boy threw out a hand, a bright blue glow encompassing his fingers. In less than a moment, Burl and his kick were thrown backward, far away from causing any damage. He only came to a stop when he hit the thick trunk of a tree and crumpled to the ground at its roots.

* * *

The machine sent off a shrill note as Sans' body began to twitch and shake uncontrollably. It caught the attention of everyone in attendance and all eyes turned toward the scene in the examination room.

Sans' hands began to glow a bright blue and his magic funneled into them. Anything in excess seemed to spill from his sockets and surround his being.

Why was he gathering so much magic!? Why was he preparing to attack? Was he trying to escape his restraints? Was he fighting back?

A frown fell over his expression as his body shook.

Gaster seemed fascinated with the development. So this was new to him too? His disembodied hands scribbled furiously as he described what he saw.

"The machine seems to be picking up on an enormous surge of magic to the point that it cannot register what it is detecting. Meanwhile, the subject seems to be suffering from some sort of fit. His magic has been called to the forefront of his being and is spilling from his very soul. I wonder if this was the start of how he began losing his Max HP. It does seem like the logical assumption. I will have to revisit this theory as more information comes to light."

"I thought it was odd that he only had 2 HP . . ." Ruddard noted, "If he has been losing his Max HP for some time, it does explain his recent decline, why he has been falling asleep in random intervals and why it has been so difficult to wake him after the lunch hour."

Maltez nodded in agreement, "But why would he be losing Max HP in the first place!? That makes no sense to me. Where has it been going?"

"Well, consider what HP is." Ruddard continued, "The visual representation of a person's drive and motivation to live. Their HOPE for life. Now consider that Serif might be human. Consider that he might be from the surface. We don't yet know his circumstances for being in the Underground, but consider having such a limited lifespan and being trapped in a world where you are automatically labeled an enemy just for existing, trying to blend in and not draw attention to yourself, like Baelin was saying, having to hide who you are just to keep yourself alive. All of this, while watching years go by and your life go by with them, knowing that escape will most likely be impossible within your lifetime. It must be exhausting. Now, consider the King's declaration: to destroy all humans on sight. It adds a whole new layer of fear to the situation. Now, if you are found out, there is no chance for negotiation. You will be killed without a second thought. Even if you do make it back home, it won't end. Now, finally, consider having to silently watch on the sidelines as more and more of you are slaughtered and you can do nothing to help them or yourself. Then, you are suddenly given the opportunity to do something about one of them . . ."

"It does make Serif's actions make more sense." Maltez had to admit, "If the roles were reversed and it was a monster trapped in a human prison, I would definitely do everything I could to help them escape certain death."

"H-how would you react if that trapped monster was a friend of yours?" Alphys added, including her own theory in with the speculation. "W-what-what if it were Baelin? Or-or Kit and you c-could do something to s-save them? If you knew the name of the prisoner. If they were the first familiar thing you've seen in years? What would you do, if after all of your efforts to save them, you failed? If they were killed right in front of you and their death was just marked off as the next in a line of victims?"

The others went quiet for a moment as they considered it.

"I would avenge her." Maltez answered solemnly, speaking first, "I . . . would make sure that the one who killed her paid for their actions."

"I would begin to lose hope." Ruddard added, "Not only for the future of my kind, but for my own life too. Seeing first hand what would happen if I were discovered . . . and seeing it over and over again without exception. I may even lose HOPE . . . If that is, indeed, the case and Sans has been losing his, It's a wonder he's not dead already. If I had to take a guess, I would say that Sans should have died a long time ago, but that common thread that makes a human's soul more resilient than a monster's has been what's been keeping him going. Did you notice when Gaster CHECKED him earlier? How he was below 1, yet still alive. I think that might have been that human element. A monster would have turned to dust as soon as that last 1 was hit . . . but with that human drive . . ."

"With determination." Alphys nodded.

"It might be enough to save you from the brink of death."

The company went quiet again and turned back to Gaster as he continued his notes. Sans was still twitching in his sleep, and his magic seemed to be flickering in his hands.

"The subject is still unconscious and does not seem able to wake. He also looks as if he may be experiencing . . . wait . . ."

Around Gaster, small objects, pens, paper, tools all began to float, a blue aura surrounding them as they were held aloft. Sans was actually _using_ his magic?

"Wait, he is . . . speaking. Talking in his sleep."

"nnnno . . ." Sans muttered, "this . . . i can't . . . no-no."

"He seems to be fighting back against something." Gaster noted, "perhaps something happening in his dream?"

It happened suddenly and without any time to react. Gaster's soul was taken in the blue magic as Sans' fists clenched.

"no stop!" Sans cried clearly.

Gaster was thrown back in that instant where he crashed against the wall and fell to the floor.

* * *

Burl let out harsh coughs as the wind was knocked out of him.

The boy was safe . . . for about three seconds. It wasn't even long enough to draw a decent breath.

"GET HIM!" Another voice cried.

It happened faster than he could process. Immediately, there was a storm of cries and calls surrounding him. From every angle, there were hands grabbing at him, pulling him in every possible direction, threatening to break bone or to rip him to pieces. Many others thought to immobilize him and pin him to the ground so he couldn't move or attack anyone else. Burl was a really big guy and it would have taken a lot of strength to send him flying the way that boy did. He could _not_ be underestimated. Someone even thought to keep him flat against the ground by digging their knee harshly between his shoulders.

In addition to the physical restraints, there was the suffocating sensation of several other gripping energies surrounding and holding onto his soul, keeping it hostage in a cage.

* * *

"Gaster!" The assistants called, immediately dropping their conversation and whatever they may have been holding and rushing to the next room to lend their assistance. Sans needed to be subdued, even with the restraints around his wrists and ankles, he could _not_ be underestimated.

Alphys immediately went to Gaster while Maltez and Ruddard focused on Sans.

Gaster pulled himself easily to his feet, a glare fixed directly on the subject on the table.

"Let it be known," Gaster continued with his dictation, "That the subject's magical prowess has not diminished in the slightest. Nor has his strength. If anything, he is just as formidable in his sleep as he would be were he conscious."

Gaster laid a hand on Alphys' shoulder in silent thanks as he passed her and joined Maltez and Ruddard. Alphys joined them, doing what she could to still Sans' movements.

"He must be having another nightmare." She commented as she attempted to hold him still, placing her hands on his clavicle and right humerus and noting just how warm Sans was to the touch. Could that be a result of his magic? His bones were so hot that it almost hurt to touch him.

" _Another_ nightmare?" Ruddard asked, attempting to keep Serif still by use of his own magic. Having no arms himself, he had to resort to other methods, "Does this happen often?"

"I-I've had to wake him before when he was like this." Alphys explained, "It took him a while to snap out of it. At the time, he seemed afraid that someone may be trying to hurt him. He threw me across his room when I tried to wake him."

"Why were you in his room?" Maltez questioned with a hint of suspicion.

"Oh! Oh, th-this was during Sp-spring Cleaning and he wasn't feeling well."

"But Serif wasn't there for Spring Cleaning." Ruddard corrected, "I specifically remember Dr. Gaster having to pick up the projects he left. When did you see him that day?"

"Oh! O-oh . . . I . . . well, I was just . . ."

"We've no time for idle chatter!" Gaster instructed, "For now, drop this drivel and focus."

"Yes, sir!" The others answered in unison as they continued in their attempts to further restrain Sans.

* * *

It was one against ten . . . Fifteen . . . Twenty-five! Already, it was difficult to breathe and if he couldn't free himself from beneath them . . .

He had to get away! He had to escape! Maybe get back to campus where there were people and witnesses!

But the more he tried to struggle, the tougher the grips became and soon, it reached a point that he couldn't move at all. He was completely trapped.

But more than that. There was a debilitating hold over his being, like even his heart was disobeying him. His lungs refused to work. His eyes toggled in and out of focus.

His body was giving out on him. He was dying. He was going to die here and no one would be any the wiser.

But where his body fell short, his magic came in to full play, making up for everything he'd lost.

His skin began to burn. His breathing became even more shallow. The ends of his fingers began to twitch beyond his control. And if he could produce sound, he would probably have been screaming.

Those nearest to him began to notice something very wrong about their captive. They began to tear their hands away as it became physically painful to hold on.

There was no warning. A large burst of energy erupted from the boy, filling his every nerve and sending any and all excess reserves outward to the ones who held him down.

The sheer force of that energy was enough to send several people flying backward.

* * *

Sans' tremors became a violent rattling and he soon began to convulse.

But more than that were the sounds of his struggling. He made long and sustained moaning sounds and every once in a while he might slip a "no" or a "please" in there. The volume began to increase, transforming the moaning into cries of fear and of pain.

Sans' back arched as he fought to release his hands and feet from his restraints and his body from the grabbing hands and heavy magic holding him down.

"no! get off of me! please, no! no!"

As he struggled, the air around him began to shift and swirl, even more energy began to emanate from him and the aura around him began to flicker from blue to white.

"Get away from him!" Gaster instructed now in urgency, "Get down and find cover, now!"

As an extra precaution, Gaster lifted his hands, still in gloves, and focused his energy into a protective layer that he set around Sans.

Moments later, it was obvious why the forcefield was needed. Sans let out a long cry as his magic erupted, filling the air around him and shooting outward in a forceful and blinding flash.

Gaster's forcefield was enough to stop the initial shock of the blast, but the impromptu shield soon gave way and those who were still nearby were hit by Sans' magic and knocked backward where they hit the walls and equipment before falling to the ground.

* * *

The boy shifted slowly, pulling his arms and knees under him as he climbed to all fours. His head was still reeling and he fought to catch a decent breath. As he opened his eyes, the world began to spin around him and he felt as if he would be sick.

He would have to take it slowly. If he tried to stand, he would most certainly fall. He had never used that much energy before, especially not all at once. He felt as if he might . . . just . . .

His vision went dark and he toppled to the ground once again. He was completely spent and he lacked the energy to even stand.

But even through all that, he could sense movement from around him. The others were beginning to shift and stand and some fought with themselves to hold down their lunch.

There was a set of footsteps that slowly but steadily approached the boy as he lay and even though the boy wanted very badly to get up, to move away, to distance himself from the encroaching presence, he just didn't have the energy anymore. He didn't even have it in him to protest as the other kicked at his ribs and stomach. The boy was flipped to his back and grabbed by the collar of his shirt, jostled and pulled until he was in a semi-sitting position.

"Not so quick to dodge now, are you, punk!?" Burl raged, his fist tightened in the boy's shirt as his other hand curled into a second tight fist at his side, "What's the matter, little man? Run out of juice?"

The fist made contact with a sharp snap. Again, the boy did not fight back, even as a sting began to well behind his left eye. Instead, he only raised a hand to grab onto his attacker's wrist.

"Burl, please . . ." He muttered as his awareness continued to swirl. The boy's face began to sting and swell even more. Still, he did not retaliate. "Stop . . ."

Another snap sounded, followed by another, and another. until the boy's grip slackened and his frame fell limp.

"Stop it, Burl!" Said one of the onlookers, "That's enough! He's down. Just leave him be!"

"No, it's not enough!" Burl responded, "If we leave him here, he could go and do this again to someone else. Or do you want to risk this happening again? No, we have to make sure this stops here! Once and for all!"

"Burl!" Another person stepped in. "Yer not gonna . . . gonna kill 'im, are ya?"

Burl scoffed, "Nah, I'm not gonna kill him. Maybe . . . maybe . . . I won't even have to."

"Burl . . . ?"

"Refresh my memory. How many mages does it take to set a curse?"

"Seven . . . Burl . . . what are you –"

"And Ebott has one of the thickest mage populations for 100 miles. I know there are at least seven of you here today!"

There was a dark smile that pulled on the corners of his mouth as Burl looked down on the now unconscious boy.

"Ladies and gentlemen." He grinned, "For our next lesson, we will be fixin' up a brand new curse."


	17. It's Raining Somewhere Else

**AN: Well, here we are, another post and another update. Another chapter and another step closer to the end. The way I see this going, there are maybe three more chapters after this.**

 **Of course, I want to say thank you to everyone! I say it every time and I KNOW you're sick of it by now, but really: Thank you all so much! I appreciate and love every single one of you!**

 **I'm excited about these next few chapters and I'm eager to get them to you. So, even though there are other updates *inserts obligatory plug for Surpassing Origins now on Kindle for $9.99* I won't go into detail on those updates and instead get straight to the good stuff.**

 **As my friends who know me will tell you, I absolutely love music and the Undertale OST has completely taken over my life! Sometimes, my love for music and my love for writing clash and lyrics are born. Throughout this chapter are my original lyrics for one of my favorite tracks of the soundtrack. Feel free to take a listen on YouTube if you need an idea of what this sounds like.**

 **Without further ado . . . Chapter 15**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 15**_

 _ **"It's Raining Somewhere Else"**_

 _"come with me and i'll tell you a little secret_

 _'bout a fool who had the nerve to try_

 _in the end, it all came to nothin'_

 _and his words were only lies"_

* * *

 _ **"Seven. That's everyone, right? Good. Now, all together . . ."**_

 _ **". . . Oh, Woah . . . I wasn't expecting**_ **that!"**

 _ **"Completely unrecognizable. Amazing!"**_

 _ **"A skeleton . . . ? Where'd the rest of him go?"**_

 _ **"Don't forget the smile. He thinks he's so damn funny. Someone should've told him that his face was gonna stick that way . . . Oh! But before you do, here. Put this in his mouth."**_

 _ **"'Sans the Skeleton' . . . Did you know what he'd turn into?"**_

 _ **"'Sans'? Why that?"**_

 _ **"Don't worry about it. Are we just about ready, then?"**_

 _ **"We're taking him to the mountain? Burl . . . don't you think this is a little overkill?"**_

 _ **"Heh-heh, not at all. This way, he can never threaten anyone again."**_

 _ **"Right . . . then, let's get going."**_

* * *

Finally, it seemed as if Sans' fit subsided, leaving the examination room in almost absolute silence. One by one, the assistants began to stir and take in the aftermath of . . . whatever it was that just happened.

When they looked around, they found the room in shambles. Equipment was toppled over and broken, the glass leading to the observation room was cracked and the magic monitoring machine seemed to have completely short-circuited as it lay on its side, absolutely dark as trace amounts of electricity danced through the shattered screen.

They pulled themselves up to their feet, taking time to catch their breath and regain their senses.

At the end of their surveys, each of their gazes turned to the source of the mayhem that caused the room to be in the state it was.

Sans was laying immobile on the examination table. All traces of his magic had died down and he was left panting and struggling to settle. His expression was still pained, and he remained unconscious, but he was no longer using his magic. Maybe with a little time, he could even rest peacefully.

The last to stir was the doctor. Gaster tried to keep the blast contained to minimize damages and to protect his staff. He did, however, underestimate just how powerful the sheer force was going to be. It was enough to shatter the force field, destroy most of the room, and upend his entire team.

At least they seemed to be alright. They were all standing. That was a good sign.

Gaster tried to clear his throat, supporting himself on his hand as he surveyed the damage from a seated position. The instant he attempted to clear his throat, he sparked up a fit of coughing that seemed to start from somewhere low in his chest . . . where his lungs would be if he had any.

Just when he thought the coughing would subside, another round was triggered and he had to turn his head away. Through it all, he tried to ignore the concerned looks of his assistants as they debated whether or not to step in and offer help.

"Nevermind me!" Gaster instructed, during a moment he had been able to draw in a decent breath, "Run diagnostics on the equipment that is still operational. Make note of what was destroyed. Do a self evaluation. Is everyone . . ." Gaster began coughing once again, and failed in his attempts to suppress it, "Is . . . everyone alright?"

Again, Gaster had to fight to keep the coughing from taking over. He turned away and tried again to clear his throat.

"Sir, perhaps we should have you evaluated." Maltez began a bit sheepishly, "That cough sounds nasty. Maybe you should . . ."

"Nevermind me!" Gaster repeated through a voice that sounded like gravel. "We need this room operational again as soon as possible! * _Ahem*_ . . . In the meantime Sans can . . . * _a-heh_ - _hehmmmm* . . ._ pardon . . . Sans can . . . just leave Sans to me."

"Sir . . . ?"

"Yes, Ruddard. What is it?"

"Um, your arm, sir . . . and . . . and your face."

Gaster halted for a moment and looked downward toward the arm Ruddard indicated. From the crook of his elbow down his forearm to his wrist, was a coating of fresh dust.

And apparently, there was something wrong with his face as well . . . For a moment, Gaster reached upward toward where there was a dull ache and brushed his cheek under his left eye with his thumb, noting the sharp surface of the shallow nick there. Of course . . .

"No matter." Gaster answered, pushing it all aside and brushing off the dust from his sleeve, "Heal yourselves and get to work on those diagnostics. Quickly. I expect a full report before you leave."

Apprehensively, the assistants obliged, many giving him a long look before continuing with their work.

"Yes sir." They all answered.

* * *

Cold . . .

His fingers twitched, perhaps in hope that it would get blood to flood through them again- to warm him again. Everything was so cold.

Cold . . .

. . . and dark . . .

It was a chore to even open his eyes.

Couldn't he just stay asleep? Never wake up again? It certainly seemed like the easiest route and the most tempting. After all, it wasn't as if anyone would be looking for him. Classes didn't start for another week or so and he had nowhere else to be. He could just . . . stay here.

No . . . He had to . . . he had to keep moving. He still had something he needed to do. His letter . . .

Time to go. Time to get up.

Ughhh . . . His head . . . It felt so heavy. Why was it so heavy?

Why did it hurt so much to move?

Why was it so cold?

And why was it damp . . . ?

The boy groaned and frowned as he opened his eyes, glaring toward the point where the sun should have been glaring back at him through his window.

But there was no sun there to greet him. There was only the darkness.

What the . . . ?

It took a minute to focus through the dark and get an idea of where he was.

He wasn't in bed . . . ? Had he fallen asleep somewhere? Outside? Wait . . . No . . .

Above him, instead of the sun, there was the pale glow of the moon. And a few stars through the rocky opening of the . . . cave . . . ?

Cave!?

The boy shot up to a sitting position as more memories began to flood back to him.

The fight! The forest! The magic! The others!

Burl!

He must have passed out! But what happened after that!? Where the hell was he!? How did he end up . . .

This place . . . looked like a cave of some sort. But if that was the case, where was the mouth?

Was the only exit . . . up there? That opening _way_ up there!?

Wait . . . that meant . . . Was he UNDERGROUND!?

Underground at EBOTT!?

No

No . . . no . . .

No!

No!

NO!

NO! NONONO!

"Hey!" He called, standing completely and shouting upward. He knew it was a long shot, but there was that sliver of hope that just maybe someone would be passing by. Maybe someone would hear him. Just maybe someone would help.

"Hey there! Is . . . is anyone up there!? Someone!?"

Of course, he wasn't expecting much. Not at night and not from underground and not when there was no one who would be looking. It was like he had been saying to himself before, like he'd been telling himself for years.

He had no one. There was no one. And the few people who actually did care enough to search for him were mad at him. They had no reason to be out here.

His calls became frantic as his eyes darted around for any other alternative- any other way out. There _had_ to be a way! Classes started in a few days! He _had_ to get back!

"HELLO!? PLEASE! IS ANYONE THERE!?"

His breaths were shallow as he considered what this meant and what he should do.

It was the middle of the night. Of _course_ there wouldn't be anyone around who could hear him.

He forced himself to take longer breaths in an attempt to calm down.

"It's okay." He said to himself, fighting the urge to start pacing. Even if he wanted to move, however, he would have been limited with all of these flowers in the way. They were so thick . . . did these flowers break his fall when he . . .

How did he end up here anyway? Did he fall? Was he pushed? How long was he out? Did Burl throw him down here when he passed out?

That asshole . . .

His crew must have carried him here and tossed him into the mountain like trash. How _could_ they!? And so many of them were mages too! Why would they do something like that to another mage? Why was it that not a single one of them spoke out against what was happening? Wasn't that the whole reason Burl had confronted him in the first place? Because he had used his magic on another person? How was what those mages did any different? Did Burl bribe them? Threaten them? Were they all afraid of him?

Or was it because every single one of those people somehow saw him as something less than human? Was it really so easy to cast him aside? To conveniently "forget" what they were doing? To turn their backs on something so unjust and just let it happen. To _contribute_ to the injustice?

What had he done to deserve this? How could he have avoided it? Not attack Surl that night on the hill? Eh, maybe . . .

If this is what finally taking a stand against years of torment got him . . . maybe it would have been better just to endure.

He would wait until morning. Maybe he would have better luck of someone hearing him then. Maybe hikers would be up early.

But he would have to wait and see.

* * *

 _'here we are another day and another reason,_

 _another lie and another excuse._

 _i tried and tried. tried to make a difference_

 _can you tell me what's the use?'_

* * *

"Hey, Sans.

"So, I guess, it's been about a week now since all of that mess with the human. So much has happened since then. I guess I'm the one who needs to fill you in. I don't know if you can hear me, but . . . no, I _know_ you can hear me . . . I just don't know how much of what I'm saying you can actually comprehend . . . well, that's wrong too. I don't know how much of what I say will actually stick. Or if you'll remember any of this.

"Anyway. Since that night. Gaine has been suspended for killing the human before it was time. Of course, he's not happy about that at all. I mean, who could blame him? I'm sure you weren't too thrilled when you were suspended.

"But aside from that, I guess you gave the others some trouble that night- lashing out the way you did . . . I- kinda missed that part . . . the doctor says we shouldn't even be in here with you in case it happens again, at least not alone. That's why Ruddard's here too. He's keeping an eye out to make sure nothing goes wrong. Do you want to say something, Ruddard?"

"Um, no thanks. You go on ahead, Baelin."

Baelin giggled slightly at the nervous and awkward tone in Ruddard's voice.

"Alright then." She continued.

"Well, the doctor has been busy. I swear, it's like he never sleeps. He's been trying to figure a way to understand you more thoroughly. You are very strange, you know that? And the doctor is determined to figure you out.

". . . you know . . . I'm really worried about him to be honest. He's been showing some signs of . . . well I don't know, insomnia, mania, restlessness. He tells us not to worry, and for the most part, we try not to mention it, especially around him . . . but the truth to the matter is . . . the doctor is sick. It looks like he's both literally and figuratively falling apart. He's been coughing up dust, Sans . . . that can't be good. And his hands are looking worse every day. He wears gloves to try to hide it, but he's even starting to have trouble holding a pen anymore. He uses magic for his dictation more often, but even his magic hands are starting to fail him . . . maybe he should start making voice recordings of his notes. But . . . I don't know how to bring that up to him.

"If you were here, though, I'm sure he'd listen. I'm sure you could find a way to help him. Whether or not he wants to admit it, he needs it. He needs that second voice to keep him balanced. And until now, that voice has always been you. Even before I started here, before any of the rest of us started here, you were that one who questioned and challenged Gaster and kept that fire burning under him, while at the same time, you were also his tether. You were always that voice that told him to slow down every once in a while- to think things through before going forward. And now that he doesn't have you, he doesn't have that tether . . . and it's worrisome to watch.

"He has Alphys focusing all of her effort into the machine. I think he meant for the human to be the first to try it. To extract the substance from her soul perhaps even without killing her. He wanted to see if it was a fuel that was limited or if a living specimen could continuously produce it. In a soul of a deceased human, the supply is definitely limited, but when the host is still alive . . .

"Honestly, the whole thing is starting to frighten me. This is all starting to sound extremely dark and . . . I don't like where it's heading. That's why we need you back, Sans. You need to be the one to tell the doctor to stop . . . he listens to you. Though . . . even that might be different now . . . He's seen your soul. He knows you have a human soul . . . and now, I'm afraid that he might use that machine on you instead. But if you're here, if you wake up, you can tell him! You can answer his questions and there won't be a reason to use the machine on you at all! Maybe if we knew more about you, we wouldn't need to do any of this. If we knew before, maybe this could have been avoided."

"Baelin."

"Oh, it looks like I have to go, but before I do, I just wanted to let you know . . .

"I stand by what I said before, Sans. Monster, human, somewhere in between, you're still one of us. I've worked with you for _years._ If that doesn't show who you are as a person, I don't know what would. I might not know what you are, but I do know _you_ , Sans. You're my friend. And I just wanted to let you know that I haven't forgotten that.

"Alright. The lunch hour is over. I've gotta get back to work. I hope you're feeling better soon, okay?"

* * *

He had been calling for about an hour. But still, there was no response. It seemed as if there really was no one who wanted to venture up the mountain . . . and with all of the lore surrounding this place, he didn't really blame them. But still, _someone_ had to be around somewhere who would hear him calling.

His voice was starting to go hoarse and his throat was scratchy, but he couldn't stop. There could be someone out there! Someone had to hear him and they would be able to help him out!

It was going to be okay. He was going to be okay.

Another hour and still no one came. No one answered.

The boy leaned against the rock wall of the cavern to catch his breath and regain his composure. He was starting to get a little dizzy with all of the air and energy he was using. He needed to rest just for a second before he continued.

The sun was fully out now and the fog and chill of the morning was starting to burn away. Another morning to another day. There _had_ to be someone out!

He continued to call, hoping that someone would hear him and care enough to stop by.

Please.

Let someone hear him.

Let someone come.

He kept calling with that hope burning in the back of his mind.

There was a sharp pain in his stomach he only noticed after he decided to take another break. There was the dull muscle ache that accompanied it as well. The stabbing pain, he recognized as hunger . . . he had no food with him and the only thing he'd eaten was the ketchup from that packet the day before. The other pain had to have come from Burl and the others when they beat him. It was uncomfortable to be sure, but he would live.

At the moment, he was more concerned with getting _out_ of this hole in the ground.

He kept calling! He hoped and prayed that luck would finally be on his side. Even hours later, it seemed that no one could hear him. Or was it that they did hear him and they chose to leave him. Or were people so afraid of the mountain that they avoided it at all costs.

That hope from before was starting to ebb away at the corners. That was it then, no one was coming. He was going to die in this hole and no one was going to—"

"Hello . . . ? Is someone there?"

A voice! After almost the entire day of yelling for someone, finally! A response! The voice sounded female . . . older?

"Yes!" The boy cried in a worn and scratchy voice. His heart was pounding and his eyes grew wide in excitement. Someone actually came! He was going to get out!

"Yes! I'm here! Oh, thank God you're here!"

"Oh my, so it wasn't just the wind! Um . . . hello? Yes, where are you?"

The boy was ecstatic! He stood as tall as he could, cupping his hands to make the sound travel farther. He was going to get out of here! He wasn't going to die in this hole after all!

"I'm here! In the hole! Please, I fell in and I can't get out!"

* * *

The halls were quiet and the majority of the assistants had gone home for the night.

Now would be the best time. No sidelong glances and no unneeded questions.

Approaching the examination room, Gaster slowed his steps, deciding to continue with caution.

Lowering his arms and his clipboard, Gaster pushed through to enter the examination room and the sleeping form within.

"Sans . . . ?"

As expected, there was no answer. Sans continued to sleep undisturbed in the "hospital" bed they'd brought in for him.

The same as before.

The same as every day since that day.

"Good evening, Sans . . ."

Gaster approached the bed, laying his clipboard on the nightstand beside him before pulling a chair up to Sans' bedside and settling in to speak to the sleeping Skeleton . . . or whatever he was.

"Where do I begin . . . ?"

Over the past week, Gaster felt as if he may have said just about everything he could to Sans in the hopes that it would be enough to wake him. Status reports, updates on what happened to the human girl, how the others were doing. He was nearly out of information.

Well almost.

"Actually, Sans, I need your help. Perhaps you can yet assist me. You see, I am facing a conundrum and I cannot decide how to proceed. That is where I need you."

Gaster let out a long breath and decided to start from the top. Talking Sans through his entire thought process.

"From the very beginning, when I first saw you out in the CORE, I knew I was treading dangerous waters. But it had been so long since I had seen another Skeleton, that I just threw caution to the wind and I _had_ to help you. Even now, I'm glad I did.

"Since day one, you have always been a conflict of interests. Even by just existing. Having another Skeleton around was so much of a distraction for me. I probably should never have taken you home or hired you on as my apprentice. Even though I knew there would be a risk, there was just something about you that I could not turn away.

"As I suspected, I began to grow attached to you. You have always been observant and you have always acted quickly. You've been a real asset to this place and everyone here . . . and to me. Whether you are monster or human . . . there is no denying the things you've done to benefit this establishment.

"And I can honestly say that without you, I would not be here now. I'm sure it is no longer a secret that . . . I haven't much time left. I've been suffering with this affliction ever since I was a boy and for a while, I thought we had found a cure. However, since all of this work with the souls . . . well, let's just leave it with saying that if I plan to see these monsters to the surface in my lifetime, I have to do it soon.

"But thanks to you, my time has been extended. That calcium bicarbonate experiment from those early days has been instrumental to my survival. Mixing that with the soul essence from the humans has not only extended my life, but has given me the drive, the motivation and the stamina to continue my work . . . I do fear, however that even that has reached its limit as far as where I stand. I've only prolonged the inevitable. I'm reaching my end, Sans, but even so I'm glad and grateful that I got the chance to know you.

"You are more than just my colleague and apprentice. Over these past years, you have become so much more important than that, you became a source of companionship . . . and of joy. You helped to bring back a part of me that I thought I'd lost . . . ever since I lost my dear Nyala and my son, Corbel . . . I was convinced that I never would find it again, and I was content to spend the rest of my days here on my own . . . that is, until you came.

"I didn't know how much I missed the company and the interaction until you appeared. I had become accustomed to working, eating, sleeping, functioning alone. But now, I can't imagine going back to those days. Not after all of this.

"So, you see, you have me at a bit of a crossroads. I've come to a point where I need to make an impossible decision. I know what I have to do. I know what my assignment is. I know what is expected of me. And I know what the king said. I have my orders. I have my duty and responsibility to all monsters to think about.

"But, how can I possibly move forward knowing everything I do now? Do I continue with the project and potentially benefit the entire monster race . . . at the expense of your soul? Or do I spare you and keep your secret, purely for my own selfish benefit, and doom the others to remain trapped here even longer?

". . . My duty, first and foremost, _should_ be to my people. I _should_ be focusing on what will benefit them. You are not my people, Sans . . . and if you were anyone else- just another human . . . this would not be such a taxing decision.

"You could be the key to ending our imprisonment and breaking the barrier once and for all.

"However, it does require access to your soul . . .

"I wish there was another alternative. But without another living human, without the female, I'm left with few other options. I just hope you understand and that you will forgive me . . ."

Gaster let out a long breath, thinking over his words and his options for the thousandth time in his head. Maybe just once more out loud would help him come to a conclusion.

". . . The fact that I am even considering the moral consequences of continuing speaks volumes. If you were just another fallen human, I would most likely not even hesitate. You would be strapped into the machine as we speak and you would be just another test subject. I would not have cared in the slightest what happened to you. Only that you were well enough to continue the tests and that your soul could be harvested at the end of it all . . .

"But the fact is, I do care about you, very deeply in fact. And the fact that these feelings were stirred because of a _human_ is astounding to me. I never would have thought that . . . you . . .

"I believe I have mentioned to you once before that I considered you to be like a son to me, Sans. I would be lying to you and to myself if I said that some of those feelings . . . many of those feelings weren't responsible for where we are now. I've let my own attachment get in the way of my judgment and my job.

". . . And I'm so glad that it has."

" **D-DR**. **GASTER. PLEASE COME TO SUB-BASEMENT 3. TH-THERE'S SOMETHING WITH THE MACHINE YOU SH-SHOULD REALLY SEE."**

Gaster had to sit up from where he had been leaning over Sans' unconscious form. His hand had been absently stroking the top of his apprentice's skull as he touched his forehead to the other's and he quietly spoke to him.

Upon hearing the overhead page, however, Gaster stood once again and grabbed his clipboard before crossing the room. He hesitated as he reached the door again.

"Until tomorrow, then . . . son."

Then Gaster left, closing the door softly behind him.

Sans continued to sleep, unresponsive and unmoving.

Whether he was aware of the doctor's gestures or his words remained to be seen.

* * *

 _"day by day, minutes turn into hours, but still,_

 _it's still the same, still the same old scene:_

 _another night and another smile,_

 _but can you tell me what it means?"_

* * *

It was nearly nightfall again when someone showed up.

". . . And you said it was around here that you heard the voice, ma'am?"

"Yes, yes. It was a young man. He said he fell into the mountain yesterday and he's been calling for help ever since."

The other voice hesitated at the story. "A voice from inside the mountain? And you said he was trying to get out?"

"Yes, officer. He couldn't have been any older than my grandson. He sounded like he needed help."

Again, the other voice hesitated, "Ma'am, I'm gonna need you to stand behind me. In fact, stay right here while I check it out."

"Of course," The woman replied, "Please help him."

The boy kept his eyes up. He was tired and he felt somehow weaker than normal. But if this guy could help him out, then he could rest back at home in his dorm room.

"Hey." The other voice called, "Anyone there?"

"Yeah, man! Down here! I'm here! Please tell me you brought some rope!"

As the boy focused upward, he was finally able to see the silhouette of the other person over the lip of the hole. He peered over the edge and seemed to be squinting, turning his head to better see the trapped person. As a last effort, he pulled out his flashlight. After all, the sun was setting and it was pretty dark in that hole.

"Hello! Can you move down there!? Can you come into the light?"

"Yeah, hang on."

The boy got to his feet and followed the beam of the flashlight, stepping into it and shielding his eyes as he tried to see the face of the guy who was gonna get him out.

Immediately, however the other person gasped, nearly dropping his flashlight as he scrambled to move away from the hole.

"Holy shiiiiiiii . . . it's a monster! Like an _actual_ monster! I thought they were . . . you were just a myth! Monsters don't exist."

"Hey!" The boy called, "That's pretty rude there, buddy! I mean, no, I might not be the best looking guy on the planet, and I might need a shower, but 'monster' might be a bit harsh, don't'cha think?"

But the other was too busy muttering to himself to listen to the boy. He kept saying that he couldn't believe that there was a _real actual_ monster right there in the hole and that it was trying to get out. He even told the lady, the one who called him over, to get as far away from the hole and the mountain as possible. He called into his radio for backup, telling whoever was on the other line that there was a monster sighted and that he needed assistance. After a bit of convincing and assurance that it was _not_ a prank, someone acknowledged with a "10-4" giving their ETA and instructions not to let the monster out of his sights.

All the while, the boy protested adamantly that he was _not_ a monster! That he was human and that he was thrown into the mountain after he lost a fight. That he was trapped and that he needed to get out.

"Yeah, right." The other finally responded, stowing his radio away, "Kind of a ballsy move if you ask me. You just come out and scream for help, hoping someone will come? Kind of a poor attempt to escape."

"Oh come on!" The boy groaned, "This _can't_ be happening! Look, I've told you everything I can! I don't know how I got down here. I just woke up here and I can't get out! But I _guarantee_ you, I'm human! I'm _human_! I'm a student at the University! Look me up there! My name is Sans!"

Immediately, the boy stopped, frozen. His eyes widened even more as he drew in a breath. That didn't just come from _his_ mouth, did it!?

"No! No, my name is Sans! No! Not 'Sans', SANS! My... Name... Is... SAAANNS! SSAAAAANNS! Damn it! Sans the Skeleton!"

"Okay, kid. I got it! Your name is Sans. And apparently, you're not human, you're a Skeleton."

"No! No, I'm not! I'm human! I'm HUMAN! My name is Sans the Skeleton! Sans! Damn it! What the Hell is wrong with me!"

"Sounds to me like you've got a bit of an identity crisis on your hands there, Sans."

"Don't call me that!" The boy cried in frustration, "That's not my name! My name is Sans the Skeleton! Sans . . . s-sans . . . it's Sans!"

No . . . why couldn't he say his own name!? Why did it come out as . . . _that_!?

His frustration at its peak, the boy let out a deep growl, turning sharply to punch the wall beside him.

When he did, there was an odd sensation coupled with an even odder sound.

A clacking of what sounded to be a group of drum sticks hitting the wall, tapping loudly against the stone surface. The sound reverberated through the cavern.

Not only that, but the feeling when he punched the wall. It didn't hurt. In fact, it didn't feel as if there was any resistance or any nerves at all between him and the wall.

What the . . .

The boy looked at his hand. It looked the same as ever. The same curves and lines of his palms, the same fingernails that he would bite if he was nervous or anxious. He decided to test something. He touched his thumbs to each of his fingertips.

Nothing. No padding, no texture, no warmth. And then . . .

 _*click* . . . *click-click*_

"Hey, whatever your name is! Did you hurt yourself punching the wall? Did you fracture a bone or something?"

"Bone . . . ?" The boy muttered, flexing his fingers.

"Yes, bones. The stuff Skeletons are made of? Wow, kid. Did you hit your head or something?"

"But . . . they're not bones. I can see my . . . my hands. See!?" The boy lifted both hands to show to the other who was peering in on him and doubtless making copious assumptions about him. He showed the other both of his palms so he could see just how not-skeletal they were."

"If you say so, kid." Was his response. "You know, why don't you take it easy for a bit. It's gonna be a little while before backup gets here. Heh, I can't wait to hear what story you've got for this, Sans."

The boy cried out again- generally, all around, and to no one in particular.

There was something very wrong going on! Why could he see his hands, but no one else could? Why couldn't he say his own name? How did he end up here in this hole when he was supposed to be back on campus getting ready for classes.

He leaned against the wall, sinking down slowly as he clenched and unclenched his hands.

"My name is . . . Sans." He said quietly, more to himself. "Saaannnss."

Maybe another approach.

"S. IiiaaaAA . . . S. I-Aaa. NnnN. S. Damn it! Damn it all! DAMN IT!"

The boy fell to sit in the corner of the cavern, fighting with himself to say his name so he could _prove_ he wasn't a monster.

"Sans . . . Sans . . . my name is . . ."

* * *

"S-Sans . . . ?"

Alphys slowly entered the room, taking the seat at her friend's bedside. There still hadn't been any response from him and time just kept passing by . . . She knew some of the others have already come in to talk to Sans, but she had been so busy with her work that she hadn't had the opportunity until now.

But . . . what to say? What could she possibly tell him that hasn't been told before.

May as well start talking . . . maybe she would be able to think of something to say as she spoke.

"Well . . . Everything has been going very slowly since you fell and since Gaine was suspended. I've been busy on the machine and that leaves only Maltez, Baelin, and Ruddard while Gaster works with the purple soul. They are extremely short-handed . . . considering two of them don't have arms."

Sans remained silent and unconscious.

"I thought that was pretty funny. I'm sure you would have too if you were awake.

"But what I'm trying to say is that you are sorely missed here in the lab. It just hasn't been the same without you.

"Well, I wanted to let you know s-some of the other things going on here too. P-particularly about Papyrus. I know you would be worried about him.

"Just so you know, Papyrus is actually doing p-pretty-pretty well considering everything that's happened. At first, He was in the holding cell, mainly for the c-comfort of the others. After all, they didn't know Papyrus was here . . . and after what they told me . . . about what happened to Kit . . . it's no wonder you kept Papyrus a secret from them. And why you never told me that he was one of Gaster's projects. You let me believe he was another Skeleton, that he was your brother so I wouldn't treat him differently . . . I understand.

"I don't blame you for it. I know you had your reasons . . . I know you have your reasons for all of it . . . I just . . . wish I knew what they were.

"I went to go talk to him actually. Papyrus. I went to see him after that night you fell. I wanted to ask him about Kit and about why the others were so afraid of him . . . b-but I couldn't. He was so upset about what happened and about you. He wanted so badly to come and see you, but until we can find a solution to the transference of energy. Until we can figure out how he absorbs your HP or how to stop him from doing it, Gaster says it's best that he doesn't come to see you yet.

"He was released from the holding cell about two days after that night. And since then, he's been in his room.

"For the moment, he's stopped going to training. He says he wants to be here in case he's cleared to go see you or in case you wake up. He worries so much about you, Sans. He really does love you.

"I don't care what the others say. I don't think Papyrus could hurt anyone. He's just not the type . . . even if he didn't have a soul before, I can feel it. Papyrus wouldn't do something like that.

"Anyway. The last thing I wanted to say . . . I-is actually the hardest thing to tell you . . .

" . . . I-I've finished construction on the- on the machine . . . it is f-fully operational now. Gaster has already inspected it and he says he's ready for- for test runs . . .

"It will be the p-purple soul first. He will have to be exceedingly c-careful not to destroy the soul . . . but- but even so . . .

"I kn-know how much she meant to you, Sans. She must have been very important to cause this much of a- of a stir in you. I've n-never heard of you being so upset before, b-but it d-does make sense. She must have been your friend, right? You must have known her personally. I don't know who she was to you or how close the two of you were, but you must have cared a lot for her . . .

"That's why I thought you would want to know what becomes of her soul. I will be assisting Gaster. If it gets too dangerous or if it looks like the soul will be c-compromised, I promise to stop the experiments. I won't let anything bad happen to your friend's . . . to-to Ava's soul.

"If those experiments are successful, however . . . I am afraid of what will happen next. I know Gaster is hurting for results and he has burning questions about the nature of the common thread. And to get those answers . . . I'm afraid he may turn to you.

"If you don't wake up soon . . . I'm afraid he m-may continue without your consent. Gaster has always been one to g-get results even if the means are qu-questionable . . . but you don't need me to tell you that. J-just know that if things continue the way they are, you'll be the next one slated for the . . . for the machine.

"I hope it doesn't come to that and that you'll be awake b-before it gets to that point.

". . . but if it does . . .

"I hope you'll be okay . . ."

* * *

 _"all this time, it's neverendin'_

 _and i try, i try to set it right._

 _but when the night rolls in, i toss and turn._

 _i can't recover from this fight."_

* * *

There were more voices, more footsteps approaching, but the boy didn't dare to look up. He knew what they would see.

"Woah, you weren't kidding, it really is a monster!"

"But he swears that he isn't."

"Really? With a face like _that_?"

The boy pulled his knees against his chest, hugging them and turning his face away . . . Just as he suspected.

"Yeah, he says he's a student at the University." That first officer came in, "But here's the thing! He seemed genuinely disturbed by his own bones. He says he can't even see them- that they look like hands. And he's been trying to tell me his name so we can check the list of registered students, but he's frustrated by the answer. He can't say anything else. He can't even spell it out . . . like his body won't allow him to."

The boy raised his head again slightly, shifting just his eyes to look up at the men above him. Maybe that officer actually understood. Maybe he actually believed him.

"Oh really?" Asked another officer, taking another step toward the edge of the hole. "Hey, down there. Skeleton."

The boy scoffed, knowing it would be pointless to argue. "What do you want?" He answered bitterly.

"You say you're human, right?

"I _am_ human."

"How would you like the chance to prove it?"

The boy hesitated, lifting his head even more, scowling upward at the men. There was something very strange about the way they approached the subject. It seemed a bit off.

"And how am I supposed to do that?"

The officer sent down a bit of a smile.

"You're familiar with the story of this mountain, aren't you?"

"Who isn't?"

"Good. Good. Okay, hear me out. What I'm proposing here is a sort of a trade-off."

The boy frowned even more, "You're not gonna ask me to kill someone, are you? 'Cause if so, you can just forget it!"

The officer actually let out a bit of a laugh. "No! No, nothing like that. Look here. There have been a string of random earthquakes happening around here recently and no one knows what's causing them. I'm saying that if it's got something to do with the monsters under the mountain, you could find out about it and fill us in, yeah? None of _us_ can do it, because, well, we're human.

"If you want to prove you're on our side, you can go and check it out. You look like a monster, you can blend in, find out what's going on, and report back. If you do that, I think we can find a way to help you out. Sound like a plan?"

The boy slowly raised his head and pulled himself to his feet.

"How do I know you'll still be here when I get back?"

"So distrusting. Look, kid, we need this info and we're not about to pass up an opportunity like this. But, that look on your face says that you're not gonna take me on my word alone."

The boy glared back at the officers, letting his expression speak for him.

"Fine. Here, kid. Take this with you." The man grinned, unhooking a thing from his belt. With a bit of a flourish, he tosses down his cell phone. Thinking quickly, the boy rushed to meet it, attempting to catch the falling device. He did not take into consideration the change in his hands . . . he didn't see it. But when it fell, instead of catching and gripping onto the phone like he had planned, upon catching it, the device slipped through his tractionless fingers and fell to the flower bed beneath him.

The man above him burst out into laughter when the boy dropped the phone, but at the irritated look from the boy, he sobered down for a second, before continuing.

"Hey, look. I'm sorry I laughed. That's my cell phone there, okay? I want you to take it with you. Use it to get in touch with us when you've found out what's been going on. If you like, you can also consider it collateral. I'll be expecting you to bring it back, okay?"

Ducking down to fish through the flowers and search for the phone, the boy gave a low hum. He looked up once he had it, waving it up above his head so the other could see it.

Without saying a word, the boy turned to explore beyond the exit of the cavern. Until now, he had been hoping someone would come with help. He knew better than to stay too far from the entrance. But he had a mission.

"Oh! Hey, kid! Wait up!"

"Yeah?" The boy answered, stopping, but not turning around.

"Two days. Okay? Give us a call in two days with a status update. We'll get a team here and find a way to get you out of there, deal?"

"Deal."

With that, the boy continued into the mountain, shoving the cell phone into his pocket as he walked.

* * *

 _"people around, they carry on_

 _and say it's gonna change_

 _but i know. . ._

 _. . . i know . . ."_

* * *

"Brother . . .

"You have been sleeping for an awfully long time. It has been almost two weeks now and everyone is getting worried about you.

"I have been worried about you too. So many people have come to see you . . . and I haven't been able to until now. Miss Alphys has been keeping me informed on your recovery, though! Or . . . your lack of recovery . . .

"But I'm glad that I can finally come in and see you now! It feels like it's been forever, doesn't it? And the only reason I can come now is because Doctor Gaster gave me a pair of thick gloves so I wouldn't accidentally hurt you. They're even my favorite color, see?"

Papyrus held out his hands so show Sans the bright red-orange gloves. Of course Sans didn't see them, but Papyrus was so excited about them and what they meant that he didn't care.

"Doctor Gaster says that I can't take your HP now with these so I can come and sit with you. I think he hopes that me being nearby will help you get better. And if that's true then I won't leave until you are."

And so Papyrus sat, watching over Sans. There still didn't seem to be any change in him whatsoever . . . but Papyrus was determined to stay with his brother. Hours passed and soon, so did an entire night. Still, Papyrus was vigilant and tireless. Sans still wasn't awake, so Papyrus couldn't rest. He didn't want to.

In the quiet of the room, however, Papyrus had plenty of time to think. When he did, however, his eager air from before began to dissipate. What if, after all of his waiting, Sans never woke up? What if he never got better? What if he was only waiting around for Sans to die?

No. He couldn't think like that. He couldn't let what Gaster said get the better of him.

He wondered if Sans knew.

"Hey . . . Sans . . . ?" He began again in a more solemn tone, "You know . . . Doctor Gaster says that if you aren't awake by now . . . it is only because you don't _want_ to wake up. He says that you have chosen to give up rather than to come back. . .

"He's frustrated. I think everyone is at least a little bit . . .

". . . But still . . . there's a part of me that wonders if he's right. Is that what happened, brother? Do you want to sleep forever and never wake up?

"I can't say I get it . . . Seems lazy if you ask me. Even if it hurts to move, getting up is better than doing nothing. And the more you move, the easier it gets to get up if you fall down.

"I don't know if you understand what I mean . . . I'm trying . . . I just- I want you to wake up. I want you to get better because you have so much more to do . . . and there are so many people here who want you to get better too. If not for me, then, do it for them."

That was only the basic gist of what Papyrus wanted to say and it didn't come out well at all. It sounded disjointed and confusing even in his own head.

Man, why couldn't Sans speak wingdings!? That would make this so much easier! Sans had been studying for a while with his help as well as Dr. Gaster's but all of that study was mainly written. Spoken wingdings was a different story altogether.

But still Papyrus had to try.

He went silent for another hour or so, deciding exactly what it was he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. Then, he had to translate it using everything he'd learned.

"Doctor Gaster thinks you have given up." He began again, keeping that same solemn tone, "And from the look of it. I think he may be right. It must seem easier to push it all aside and choose not to try anymore. And I know you're sad, brother. You have lost so much even though you tried your best and you fought so hard. Your friend was killed in front of you even though you tried to protect her. Perhaps you blame yourself for that too.

"After all of that . . . if you did want to give up. If you choose to die instead of trying anymore . . . I do understand. Perhaps you think that there's nothing you can do to make it better. That your usefulness is at its end. That anything you do won't matter and it would be better if you were no longer around. That you would be worth more to us if you were to die . . . and so you're choosing to end it yourself. You're letting yourself slip away . . . because it would be the easiest way to do some good!"

Papyrus' solemn tone took on more and more emotion as he spoke, all the way until the last line, where he nearly choked. But he couldn't stop. He still had so much more to say.

"It . . . must be nice to be able to make that decision for yourself. It must be nice to be able to _choose_ when you die. Not everyone gets to make that choice, you know. And if I'm being honest, I envy you a little because of it. If I had that kind of power, I think I might have used it. I would have used it to live.

"But, I never got that choice. And there are so many who never got the choice. Those who died early, those who were killed, those who died before their time. I'm sure they would have used that power to live too. And you . . . you hold that power in your hands and you're choosing _not_ to live . . . ? It makes no sense to me.

"I was lucky, though. I was given another chance. And so are you. You're being given another chance. You have been healed, you have been taken care of. You have had friends and . . . well I like to think . . . family come in and keep you company.

"So . . . you can't give up now! Not when so many people are still counting on you!

"People like us . . . like we . . . People like you and I . . . have a responsibility . . . a duty to the others. To those who are living and to those who died too soon. We have a responsibility to keep living- for them and for us. We have to keep doing our best. For that one thing.

"Oh . . . I never told you about the 'one thing', did I?

"Well, in the Guard, they say that there's always one thing. There's always that one thing that's worth holding onto- that's worth fighting for. Even if you lose everything, even when it looks like it's all lost. There's always that one thing you hold above all other things. The thing worth fighting for.

"The thing worth dying for.

"The thing worth _living_ for!

"I'm sure you have that one thing too, Sans. It might be hard to find right now, but . . . that's why I'm here! I'll help you find it! I'll help you find your one thing, and I'll help you protect it! I'll help you find a _thousand_ 'one things' so just in case you lose one, there will always be another 'one thing' to keep you going!

"But I can't help you if you're not here . . .

"But . . . still . . . I can't tell you how to choose. I can't tell you how to use your power.

"I can only tell you how I would use it . . . And I can tell you what _I_ want.

"I want for you to get better.

"I want for you to live.

"Because you're my 'one thing'."

* * *

 _"all around, there are folks who got it worse than me,_

 _but they live their lives, 'cause it's what they do._

 _how can i stand around complainin'_

 _when for them, it's rainin' too?"_

* * *

Two days came and left in a hurry and during that time, the boy searched every bit of the Underground he could in order to find information for his exchange. He'd learned so much about it in such a short amount of time and just about all of it was usable information.

"Turns out, it's freakin' out the locals too." The boy reported, speaking into the receiver of the phone. He'd found the perfect way to hold the device so that it wouldn't slip through his fingers as he tried to speak.

He stayed near the edge of the dump as he spoke. He found that it was the easiest place to get a decent signal.

"Yeah, but it's all because of some doctor guy. Goes by Gaster. Wingdings or some mess. But what he's working on is nothing short of incredible! He's trying to create a renewable energy source by converting the natural thermal energy of a specific area of this place. And from what I hear, he's nearly got it perfect. If he's successful, he will be able to provide power to the entire monster community! I don't know _how_ he's gonna do it, it's completely beyond me, but just the fact that he's _done_ something to this level is amazing! Anyway, there are still some kinks to the conversion unit and that's what's causing all the earthquakes. If he gets it all squared away and functional, it shouldn't be an issue for very long."

"Wow, kid." Said the voice on the other end of the phone. "I gotta say, you really came through for us! Well done! Now, come on back. That team's here so we can get you out. With any luck, we'll be able to find out what happened to you and why you look like a monster, but for right now, let's just get you taken care of, okay?"

"Heh, sounds good to me!" The boy sighed, relieved and excited. Not only had be been able to learn so much about how this Underground world worked, but he was finally going to be able to go home! He was finally going to get out and sleep in an actual bed and eat . . . well, he still had no food in his dorm, but maybe he could get something decent before he passed out for the next three days.

"Alright then," the voice on the line chuckled, "We'll see you soon, kid."

"Sure thing." The boy answered before hanging up and heading back out of the dump in search of the path he took to get here in the first place.

He was tired and he was hungry, but with this new rush of adrenaline and excitement, he found it in him to continue for just a little bit longer. Long enough to get out of here!

He traveled back down the roads, mainly keeping to the edges and shadows to avoid meeting or making a lasting connection with anyone. The quicker he could make it through the maze, the better.

It took almost three hours, but eventually, he did make it back to his hole. As he approached, he noticed laughter coming from the surface.

"And you're sure you don't need it back? That seems like a waste to me."

"Nah, It's a cheap little burner thing. I'll cancel it in the morning anyway."

"Man, where _is_ he? I want to see the look on his dumb gullible little face!"

That made the boy hesitate immediately. Wait a minute . . . that didn't make any sense . . . weren't those the same officers from the other day? The ones who struck the deal with him? The ones who _just_ told him to hurry back so they could save him from this place?

"Man, whatever! We're running out of daylight. Let's just blast the place and get it over with! The result will be the same: One less entrance for people to fall in and one less escape point for those monster freaks! Just plug it so we can go home!"

Wait! No! They couldn't! They made a deal! He'd held up his end of the bargain! He wasn't about to let them off without holding theirs up too! They gave their word! They were going to help him escape if he gave them the information they wanted!

The boy rushed to the opening of the cavern and called up to the men, making sure his seething tone reached up to them.

"Hey! Asswipes! Down here!"

"Ah, look who it is!" One of the men cheered, breaking away from his laughter to peer down into the hole, "It's our little songbird! Hey, thanks for the information, Skeleton! Can't thank you enough! Really!"

"You feel like telling me just what the hell you're doing!? We had a deal! What about our agreement!?"

The laughter resumed, this time more prominent and more enthusiastic than before.

"Aww man! Did you really think we would help a _Skeleton_ break out of the Underground just on your word that you're human!? Wow, you really are _thick-skulled_!"

The others roared with laughter at the terrible joke.

"I fail to see just how this is funny!"

"Are you kidding!?" Said another one of the men on the surface, "Everything about this is friggin' hilarious! You really must be a whole separate level of stupid, kid! But yeah, thanks for goin' in and getting' us that info!"

As they spoke, the boy's rage began to boil over once again. How could they flat out lie to him like that!? How could they laugh about it like that right in front of him. Right at him!?

How could they!?

The boy gripped at the cell phone in his pocket and threw it as hard as he could to the side of the cavern, shattering it into several pieces.

"We had a deal!" The boy raged, using his blue magic to encase the phone pieces and levitate them around him. With a harsh gesture, he sent the phone fragments up toward the opening of the hole and the laughing men. He had been refraining from using his magic in an attempt to seem as human as possible, but now, all bets were off! He wanted to shut them up! He wanted to show them that they chose to double cross the wrong person! "You said you'd get me out!"

As the phone fragments hurtled upward, the men flinched for a second before realizing they weren't in any real danger. The fragments reached the mouth of the cave before colliding with the invisible barrier there and causing the phone to plummet back down to the ground where the boy stood.

"Ha! Nice try, _monster_!" One cackled. "How about you try this instead!"

With a soft click, several stones along the upper ring of the mouth began to beep and within seconds, the beep is nearly a constant hum.

Wait, these men had been talking about "blasting this place"! Is that what all that was!? Were those the _explosives!?_

There was barely enough time to duck, much less to take cover before the entire Earth shook all around him! Instinctively, the boy threw his hands above him to block the falling debris and save himself from being crushed for as long as he could, his blue magic working like a shield and taking the brunt of the damage.

But that blue magic couldn't last forever and it soon gave in as the boy tried to step away from the mouth and take refuge further into the cavern. He couldn't hold it off! He couldn't shield himself and he couldn't make it to the arch leading into the next room!

The rocks and debris fell unceremoniously over the boy and he let out a cry as they toppled over him. He curled up as tightly as he could to reduce the damage as all hope for escape tumbled in on him and blocked the exit in a massive cave-in.

* * *

 **-still in the cave-**

* * *

"Hello!? Hello!? Hello, is there anyone over here!?"

The voice rang like an alarm and even though the boy was fighting off a splitting headache and a more disorienting ringing in his ears, he could still hear the call. Someone who was looking for survivors of the cave-in.

The boy tried to shift, but he was pinned underneath boulders and rocks. He had nearly been able to save himself and the fact that he was still alive was a surprise even to him.

He tried to answer, calling back to the voice meekly and through a scratchy and dust-filled throat. All the while, he tried to use his magic to move the boulders from over him. Slowly, but surely, he was getting them to shift, but they were so heavy, he could barely cause a rumble.

The one calling seemed to hesitate. Did they hear his voice!? Were they coming to help?

"Hello? Who's there!? Are you hurt?"

The boy called again, explaining his situation as best he could.

During the explanation, the voice made its way over to where the boy struggled to free himself.

"Hey, save your strength, kid!" The voice insisted, "Those rocks are too heavy to move. I've sent some flies to go get a friend of mine. You'll have to tunnel beneath the rocks to get out. Just wait for my friend, okay?"

The boy stopped struggling, "Ugh . . . I don't feel so good."

"Well, of course you don't!" The voice answered, "You just had a _mountain_ fall on you! Just sit tight for now, okay! We'll get you out of there in just a second."

The boy hesitated for a moment, "H-how do I know you will?"

"Wait, what?" The other voice asked.

"The last time someone said that to me, I ended up here. How do I know you're really here to help?"

"Oh . . . well, I assure you, I'm a Frog of my word!"

"Frog . . ."

"Well, yeah. Us Froggits are pretty much all over the place here."

"Is your friend a Froggit too?" The boy asked, "No offense, but I've never really known frogs to be the digging type. How is your friend going to— aah!"

As the boy was speaking, there was a shift from beneath him. What the . . . ?

A section of the ground gave way and the top of a carrot popped its way up. Its . . . eyes . . . looked the boy up and down as if trying to size him up.

"Well, Frogs don't really dig." The carrot answered, "But us Roots are kinda pros. Hang on, kid . . . I gotta make this hole a little bigger for you."

"As you can see," The Frog began once again, "My friend is a Vegitoid. He'll have you out in no time!"

The boy let out a deep breath, feeling a slight sense of relief. "Thank you."

Within ten minutes, the Vegitoid was able to dig a tunnel big enough for the boy to safely crawl through and escape the fallen cave debris. When the boy pulled himself up from the hole, he remained seated on the ground as he brushed off the dirt and dust from his clothing.

"Well, now that that's taken care of, we can get down to business." The Froggit began again, "We've been sent to scout this area for the cause of the cave in and report back. Any info you may have would be greatly appreciated."

The boy caught his breath, taking a long look at the massive pile of rocks that he'd just escaped. There was no way he would have been able to move all of that on his own.

"Yeah . . ." He began bitterly, "I can tell you _exactly_ what happened."

He told them about the humans and how they set up explosives at the top of the entrance that had been right there. The moment he mentioned 'humans' the Frog and the Carrot let out a groan.

"Of _course_ it was the humans." They nodded, "We should have known. And they saw you and immediately decided to blow up one of our skylights. Rude."

"Tell me about it." Said the Carrot-looking monster . . . or was he a turnip . . . ? "So, Skele-kid. Were you the only one here during the cave-in? Is there anyone else in there who needs to be rescued?"

The boy shook his head. A massive mistake as the splitting headache reminded him of its existence. And not only that, but just about everything else was in pain as well. He supposed that was to be expected after that explosion and after having been buried alive.

"No," he reiterated, halting his movements and instead opting to stay as still as possible, "I was the only one."

"Well, that's a relief." The Froggit croaked, "In that case, you should get on home. You're safe now, okay?"

The boy hesitated at that. How was he supposed to get home now . . . ? Where could he _possibly_ go? He knew next nothing about this Underground world except the info he'd gathered and after the reaction these two monsters had, he couldn't just go around telling people he was a human. He had to find another way out. He had to figure out what the heck he was gonna do now.

"Yeah . . . home . . . okay." The boy said quietly, more to himself than to the others as he tried to pull himself to his feet. Immediately, however, everything around him began to spin and the boy stumbled, trying to catch his footing, when he reached out for the wall, he nearly missed and he fell forward to his knees.

"Hey, hey! Kid, are you okay!?"

The boy groaned again, trying to focus past the swirling cave walls. "Oh, y-yeah . . ." He muttered, slightly embarrassed by the trip, "Yeah. I'm fine. I just got off to a _rocky_ start is all."

His attempt to lighten the mood went completely unrealized.

"Was . . . was that a joke?"

The boy let out a faint chuckle, "Obviously, not a very good one. I guess you could also say that at this point, I've hit _rock bottom._ "

"Well, you can't be too hurt if you've got it in you to make jokes like that." The Frog snickered, "C'mere, let me take a look at you real quick."

The boy steadied himself and took the few steps toward the Froggit, willing himself to stay standing.

"Now, hold still. I'm just gonna CHECK you real quick. I won't attack."

Right away, the air surrounding them shifted and became tense. It even seemed as if the colors dulled a little . . . or maybe that was part of the boy's lasting delirium.

A fight had been initiated.

But true to his word, the Froggit did not attack and instead focused directly on the boy.

"Oh, my. Well, I'll give you this. You sure put on a tough front . . . um . . . Sans, was it?"

"Is that the name my stats say?" The boy groaned darkly. Damn it, even his stats have been altered . . . what the hell did Burl _do_ to him?"

"Um, yeah. Why? Is that not right? What's your full font type, Skele-kid? What'd your parents saddle you with?"

"My parents . . . heh, don't got those. As far as my 'font type' . . . ?" The boy shrugged, "And why do you keep calling me Skele-kid?"

"Oh you poor thing." The Vegitoid jumped in, "Sorry to hear about your parents. You still seem so young. And you must have hit your head pretty hard if you don't remember your font type. Let's see if we can't help you out with that."

"Well, you definitely lack the flair and flourish of a serif font." Said the Froggit in a very matter-of-fact tone . . . so it wasn't supposed to be offensive . . . the boy guessed. "If that's the case, that part's easy. Sans Serif. But which one? There are so many fonts that are Sans Serif . . ."

"Well, you do seem to be of the smaller more curvative Skeletons." The Vegitoid added.

"See many Skeletons, do you?" The boy asked, having very mixed feelings about being analyzed by these complete strangers. Why would they just assume all of this about him? How the heck was he supposed to respond to it all?

"Hmm. Not anymore." The Froggit answered, "Skeletons are actually pretty scarce now. Anyway, you're dressed like you're the more easy going type font. And with a smile like that . . . and your joke-telling. Would you be a comic?"

"Well, that's what my friends always used to say. I was your regular class clown."

"Well, that's it then! 'Comic Sans Serif'! Why don't you try it out? Try saying it, see how it feels."

The boy frowned . . . which apparently, the two monsters couldn't see. All they saw was the smile . . . another element to Burle's curse, no doubt. He knew what was going to happen when he tried to call himself something, when he tried to say his name.

Oh well. Worth a shot.

"Heya." The boy greeted, "The name's Comic Sans Serif."

Right away, the boy halted once again . . . well that was different. He could actually say this one! And beyond that, somehow . . . this did actually fit . . .

"We have a winner!" Said the Froggit, "Now, all that's left is to get you out of the HP danger zone. You only have one right now, and I can't actually heal."

"I can . . . a little." answered the Vegitoid, "Just be sure to eat your greens, and you'll be fine."

Moments later, the ground between them seemed to sprout and two glowing green carrots popped up out of the ground.

"There you go." Said the Vegitoid, looking rather proud of itself. "They should heal about one HP each, but that's the best I can do."

The boy lowered himself into a squatting position as he reached out for the glowing vegetables. What the heck with these monsters!? Why were they being so nice and helpful toward him? They saved him, made sure he was okay, gave him a perfectly good monster name _and_ fed him glowing health-raising veggies?

That's more than any human would have done.

"Thank you." The boy said, touching one of the carrots with the tips of his fingers. Upon contact, the vegetable sent a warm soothing feeling all throughout his body and the boy instantly noted a difference in the swirliness of the cave. His headache was starting to ebb away as well.

He took the second one in his hands, feeling the same effect.

When the boy stood, he noticed right away that his balance was more stable. It wasn't perfect and he felt as if he could still fall if he wasn't careful enough, but at least he didn't feel as if he would end every step with a faceplant.

"There you go!" The Froggit smiled with a little nod. "Much better. Now you can go on ahead . . . I know you said your parents were . . . no longer around, but if you were looking for a familiar face . . . perhaps Dr. Gaster will be able to help you. Not only that, but I'm sure he could heal you too!"

"Dr. Gaster . . . He's the one who built that huge machine in the Hotlands, isn't he? How do I get there?"

"Wow, Skele-kid. You really did hit your head hard, didn't you?"

The boy raised his hand and scratched at the back of his . . . skull with a bit of a faint chuckle. "Eh, I guess I did."

"Just head East, kid. You can't miss it."

"East . . ." The boy mused as he stepped out of the cavern and toward the right direction, "I think I got it. Hey. Thanks again bud . . . and well ' _bud_ '."

"See you around, Comic Sans!" The Vegitoid called back with a bit of a smile at the bad plant pun.

* * *

 **-in Hotland-**

* * *

It felt as if he'd been walking for at least a full day, maybe a day and night. It was hard to tell in this place with no sun or moon to tell the time. How did these monsters do it?

Or maybe he was being impatient. He thought he would have reached Hotland by now.

So far, he'd been able to travel relatively unnoticed. He kept to the sidelines and shadows of each new area, not wanting to draw attention to himself or answer a barrage of questions to which he knew none of the answers.

He made his way through like this until the could feel a significant increase of temperature. He had to be close!

And there! That huge machine there! That must have been the thing Dr. Gaster had been working on! The CORE! Even here, it was amazing to see. That giant thing over there was supposed to supply the entire monster community with power, using nothing but thermal energy.

The thought was incredible.

Well, he could get a closer look and look for Dr. Gaster at the same time, couldn't he?

But the temperature in the CORE was even worse than it was in the rest of Hotland . . . he supposed he should have seen it coming.

He stumbled forward, gripping at the walls. The little bit of HP he had was starting to drain away . . . maybe coming here before being healed was a mistake. No, no maybe about it. It was a terrible idea. He was still tired and he was still hungry. He hadn't eaten now in about three days. Unless . . . did those glowing carrots count? But he hadn't eaten those so much as he just . . . absorbed them. He didn't have anywhere to sleep, and he didn't want to just find a corner to sleep in . . . too open. And he didn't have any money on him . . . so he couldn't pay for anything even if he found it.

The short answer was, he was screwed.

And to top it off, he'd managed to get himself lost . . . he swore up and down that he'd seen this exact corridor at least four times now . . .

Man, if he could just get out of this heated _labyrinth_ he could find some place to rest for a bit before he continued his search for Dr. Gaster.

There was a bit of a loud noise, and the boy stumbled forward. Wait, that was _him_ making that noise, wasn't it?

How'd he end up on his knees?

Why couldn't he see three feet in front of him? Why in the world was everything so swirly again!?

This place was taking a higher toll on him than he thought.

He fought to pull himself to his feet once again and try forward. He had to at least find the exit and get the hell out of this place!

Again, the sound resonated through the corridors as he fell to his knees.

This time, there was a response. Another voice! Another person! Maybe he knew the way out!

He was threatening to call the Royal Guard.

"Hey, woah there, buddy." The boy called out, "Just . . . just hang on a sec. There's no need to get all . . . _hotheaded_ over this!"

The boy could see him now. A tall thin monster who seemed like maybe he could have been a Skeleton too beyond the swirl in the boy's vision. Is that what the Froggit and the Vegitoid meant when they said the doctor may be able to help if he wanted to see a familiar face?

Well, it was a nice gesture, anyway.

Wait, why was he getting darker? And just around the edges. Everything was steadily getting darker.

The boy fell again, this time, completely to the ground.

In response, the taller monster immediately dropped the things he had been carrying and rushed to support him.

"Hey! Hey, there!" The monster called almost frantically, taking the boy by the shoulders and sitting him up. He sounded genuinely concerned about him. "Stay with me!"

The monster's voice was deep, but smooth. Strong but not harsh. His grip was firm, but careful as he held the boy up. And though the sheer power emanating from the monster was undeniable, it was calm and controlled.

Though the boy was at the mercy of this complete stranger, he wasn't afraid.

The boy chuckled with an empty sound, "Well, if you're askin' . . . How could I possibly say no?"

"My name is Dr. W.D. Gaster." The monster addressed the boy, "I'm not going to hurt you, but to help, I need to know more about you. Please, tell me your name."

"Heh, whatever. Guess it wouldn't hurt to answer." The boy laughed tiredly. Funny how it was trying to give someone his name that landed him in this situation to begin with. He already knew what was going to come out if he said anything even close to the truth. But there was that one loophole. Eh, may as well give it a shot. What was that name the Froggit and the Vegitoid gave him? It sounded so much better than 'Sans the Skeleton'.

"The name's Comic Sans Serif." The boy answered, ". . . Call me . . . Sans."

The taller monster hummed slightly, shifting and adjusting his grip on the boy, helping him to stand. Right away, it was obvious that the boy's strength was completely drained and he could barely remain standing, much less walk any further.

"Well, Mr. Serif." The monster said as he helped the boy onto his back so he could carry him, "We can't leave you out here. Let's get you out of this heat."

The boy was taken aback at the monster's kindness and as he carried him away from the CORE toward the large building in the distance, the boy relaxed into his back, almost instantly falling asleep.

* * *

 _"here we are, another day and another reason._

 _another lie that i tell myself._

 _just push aside all the bad times and pretend_

 _it's raining somewhere else."_

* * *

Papyrus continued to keep watch over Sans day and night even when the halls were quiet and the lights were dim. He didn't feel tired or sleepy in the slightest and the only thing that mattered was that Sans could sleep and that Sans was comfortable.

He asked Doctor Gaster several times to remove the straps keeping Sans' hands and feet tied to the bed, but the doctor insisted that it was for the safety of those who were in the room with him.

So that's how it stayed, with Sans strapped to the bed; a prisoner in his recovery, and there didn't seem to be any sign that he would wake at all.

Until somewhere between the hours of 2:00 and 6:00 AM twelve days into it all, there was a twitch of the finger and a deep groan coming from the form in the bed.

When Papyrus looked again, he saw Sans' face contorted into a frown. His breathing had changed as well, different from that of a sleeping person. His fists tightened and grabbed into his sheets .

Was he having another nightmare?

Sans turned his face away but did not open his eyes. He took a deep breath and tried to move. He tried to turn his body and curl in on himself, but because he was still fastened down to the bed as if he would lash out at any given moment, it was impossible. Instead, he held fast to the blanket, making tight fists at his sides.

Everything hit hard and all at once. The voices, the stories, the confessions.

Baelin . . . Alphys . . . Gaster . . .

. . . Papyrus.

"Brother?" Papyrus called, "Are you awake? Did you come back!?"

Sans let out his long breath as a string of choked sobs. He tried to remain relatively silent, still failing in his attempts to turn his face away. Before he could stop himself, Sans was crying heavily and his restraint was lost. He fought to catch a breath as he cried openly into the room, but every time he could catch a breath, the sobs became heavier.

It all hurt so much, his aching body being the least of his worries. His soul was tight and heavy, his voice was pained, his mind was reeling, every part of him, every level of his existence was in anguish. It hurt so badly. And the more he thought, the more it all settled in. He cried out loud, letting it all out, the pain and the frustration and his anger toward himself and for the situation.

He cried for Ava.

He couldn't keep it in and this was the only way to let it out.

But it wasn't just the pain. It was so much more than that! It was hearing all those who came to see him while he was recovering. It was listening to what they had to say. It was knowing that even through all of this mess; even when they found out what he was, they were still at his side. It was finally knowing that he did, in fact, belong. That he did finally belong somewhere, anywhere.

And it wasn't on the surface at all. The humans . . . They never understood. They never cared. They beat him, shunned him, cursed him and threw him away. These monsters . . . ever since, he first fell into the Underground, these monsters had taken him in and they made him feel wanted.

It was like Papyrus was saying. He had friends here. People who believed in him, who mattered to him and to whom he mattered. He was not alone. He had a responsibility to them.

Here, he was in good company with those who would share in his bad jokes. Every one of them . . . they were all worth living for.

But the weight of it all was nearly unbearable! There was so much all at once and it hurt!

Papyrus' hands tightened as well as if willing himself to keep his own composure. His brother was in pain and there was nothing he could do to help. It was like that night all over again. He was useless when it came to Sans. And this was an enemy he could not fight off for him.

Just listening to him, Papyrus could feel himself falling apart as well. He could feel it resonating in his own soul and for a moment, Sans' pain was his.

He realized that the best thing he could possibly do was to leave him for the moment. Let him be alone.

"I-I will . . ." Papyrus struggled to say, "I will return for you, Sans. For now, I'll leave, but I will come back for you!"

Sans didn't answer, but continued in his cries.

As Papyrus stood and crossed the room to leave, he raised a gloved hand and wiped at his eyes, the raw emotion absolutely overwhelming him. For a moment, he looked back to the large mirror on the wall, knowing that it was the window to the observation room where Gaster was surely watching and monitoring.

Papyrus shook his head, trying to signal the doctor to leave Sans be for a little while longer before he came for him. Let him get this out.

Moments later, Papyrus left as well and Sans continued to cry alone as his soul all but shattered.


	18. Gaines and Losses

_**Chapter 15.5**_

 _ **Gaines and Losses**_

The apartment was dark and smelled slightly of alcohol. Even as he made his way through the threshold and set the bag of take-out down on the counter, he shuffled and muttered a string of curses under his breath.

He couldn't take much more of this being suspended crap.

He was restless and frustrated and PISSED!

How dare that little bastard threaten and attack him!? All over some stupid human! But he would just have to be patient. Gaster's little pet would get what was coming to him soon enough.

But then there was the experiment . . . knowing what it knew, seeing what it saw. It did pose a bit of an extra risk. Just one more obstacle.

Maybe he would have to add that experiment to the list. Before it could talk. Before it could pass on what it knew.

If it hadn't already . . .

And then there was Gaster. That sap. That wishy-washy piss-poor excuse of a doctor. He'd been losing his touch for months! Talking to himself, destroying his own experiments halfway through. Deliberately dragging his feet on the soul project! There was no excuse for such delayed results on these souls! If Gaster had been working every day on them, then surely, they would know a lot more by now! There was no excuse, unless he was somehow using the power of the souls for his own benefit.

If he could somehow expose the doctor, catch him in the act . . . report him. That would be grounds for termination.

Heh, terminate the doctor.

Maybe then things would go more quickly. Maybe then they could actually get something done!

Gaine fished through his takeout bag, digging out the Styrofoam container and a fork.

Well, anyway . . . another day down.

And another day of his suspension was over.

The phone, sitting heavily in his pocket, gave a ring. Two. On the third, he answered.

"Gaine." He said plainly into the receiver.

It was Maltez on the other line and he sounded almost frantic.

"He's awake."

A grin pulled on Gaine's face as he realized just what that meant. Finally.

"Best news I've heard in a long time. Tell the little fucker I said hi."


	19. A Theory of Life and Lies

**A.N. : Hello hello! Everyone!**

 **This! You have no idea how excited I am to be able to post this chapter! (I know it took forever, but hey I promise the wait will have been worth it!)**

 **Just in case you missed it, you actually have 2 new posts to read. I suggest, Just in case you missed it, to go and check out chapter 15.5 titled "Gaines and Losses" It's not long and honestly, you can still enjoy the story without reading it, but it's just a little something extra!**

 **Other stuff: Um . . . Thank you for reading! To all of you who have been here since chapter 1 and to all of you who are brand new! You guys give me life and hope and motivation to keep writing this! Thank you so much!**

 **Final thing: I've created a tumblr page for Undertale related stuff! I will also be uploading artwork and illustrations from this story and it is possible that I will be uploading this fic there in smaller pieces and include those illustrations with the text. If you're interested, feel free to check out "undertrash- jes" and you'll find me there!**

 **For now, that's it. Enjoy!**

 **OH YEAH! BEFORE I FORGET! THIS CHAPTER COMES WITH A WARNING! BUT I CAN'T TELL YOU WHY!**

 **just trust me, okay?**

 **You have been warned.**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 16**_

 _ **A Theory of Life and Lies**_

Hours passed in the examination room and finally, it seemed as if Sans was able to calm himself enough that others could come into the room with him without intruding. For Sans' sake as well as the fried nerves of the others, Gaster asked his assistants to keep their distance until further notice. In the early hours after Sans woke up, Gaster sat quietly by his bedside and waited patiently for the time Sans was ready to talk.

After all, they had a lot to discuss.

"How about we start with something simple." Gaster began with a bit of heat under his words as if scolding a young child. "Tell me your name."

Sans sighed, turning his face away from Gaster.

"that's kind of a loaded question, doc." He answered with a quiet dejected air.

"Is it that you don't want to answer? It's been so long, and we've been through so much, surely you can tell me your _name._ "

"but that's just it," Sans answered again with a groan. "if i could, i would in a heartbeat, but i _can't._ i haven't been able to tell anyone my name in _years_. and it's not that I don't want to, or that it's too painful or anything . . . i just can't . . ."

"Well, that is interesting." Gaster hummed, "Do you have any idea why that would be?"

"dunno. been trying to work that out since day friggin' one. must be part of this curse care package. it really sucks."

There was a long silence between the two.

"can i tell you a secret, doc?"

"Well, that is why we're here."

"at first, i really hated the name 'sans'. the jackasses who did this thought it would be a good laugh." Sans' voice dropped to a near-whisper, "sans the friggin' skeleton . . . the butt of every joke. the expendable one. the throw-away."

"So, you say these humans cursed you. And part of that curse is that you are unable to reveal your true appearance or tell anyone your true name. I assume this was to prevent you from convincing others of your same species. Doubtless, you would have sought help from other humans upon arriving in the Underground. Were you able to make contact with the humans before now?"

Sans nodded wordlessly.

"And because of your appearance, they neglected to help?"

"yeah," Sans scoffed, "go figure."

"There is really no need for that, Sans." Gaster began again. "I am merely attempting to understand. If you are bitter about your past, I should not be the focus of your aggression."

"Hey, you know what would really be a mood enhancer? how about untying me! i'll bet i'll be a lot less aggressive then."

Gaster sighed again. "You know why I can't do that."

"actually, doc, i don't. you _know_ me! what reason do i have to attack you?"

"This isn't about your reasoning, Sans. It's about what could happen unintentionally." Gaster absently thumbed the crack under his left eye.

The gesture did not go unnoticed. Sans sobered instantly when he saw.

"did . . . did i do that to you, doc . . . ?"

Gaster stalled, realizing what the idle motion must have looked like. The truth was, ever since that night Ruddard pointed it out, the cracks in his skull were steadily becoming more prominent and had even began to splinter as tiny pieces were beginning to crumble away. Of course, like a scab, the moment it was pointed out, Gaster continued to pick at it . . . only succeeding in speeding up the process.

"This . . . This? No! No, you had nothing to do with this. This was due to . . . This was my own doing."

"the souls?"

"Let us try a different approach." Gaster pushed, deflecting the question, "I'll ask you a series of questions. What I want from you is a simple 'yes' or 'no'. Does that sound alright to you, Sans?"

Sans kept his face turned away. Fine, if the doctor didn't want to talk, then, "sure, why not?"

"Very good. Now, first question: Are you a monster, Sans?"

"right off the bat we're getting to the deep stuff. aren't we supposed to build up to that kind of thing?"

"Sans . . ."

"no . . . i'm no monster."

"Are you human?"

"yes . . . or . . . i was."

Finally, they were finding their rhythm.

"This question's a little different. I need a number. How old were you when you fell into the Underground?"

"ah geez . . . around what . . . fifteen, i think . . . sixteen maybe."

"Still just a child, as I suspected. How unfortunate for you. Now, is your name 'Sans'?"

"no."

"Can you tell me what your name _is_?"

"no."

"Is that soul yours?"

"yes."

"Did you know the most recent fallen human?"

Sans hesitated, " . . . y-yes."

"Personally?"

"yes . . ."

"Were you close?"

"she was my . . . we were . . . yes . . . she came to the underground looking for me."

"You loved her?"

" . . . yes."

This time, Gaster hesitated as all of the things that happened to the human and all of the things that he'd planned to do revealed themselves to him once again with this new context and understanding. He wondered, if it had been Nyala going through all of it . . .

If he had been in the same situation . . . if it had been Nyala running for her life and if it had been Gaster trying to save her only to fail right at the end . . .

He _had_ been in the same situation before. The people he loved had died right in front of him while he could do nothing but stand by and watch. He had been too powerless . . . too slow . . . too weak to prevent it from happening . . .

He never really could fully forgive himself for that.

With that perspective, he thought about the plans he'd had for the human. If it had been up to Gaster, he would have kept her alive and captive for as long as possible. He would have used her as a guinea pig for the machine, attempting to extract the Determination from her soul. He would have stretched her within an inch of her life . . . all while Sans assisted him.

Then . . . when she was unable to continue or she had no more Determination to give . . . he would have offered her to Sans and let him be the one to finally take her life. He would have earned the LV and EXP he needed to raise his HP. Even he would have been able to handle a weakened human. Like a vaccine, Sans could have neutralized her and he could have been strengthened as a result.

It would have been a perfect plan . . . If Sans had been a monster . . . If he hadn't personally known the human girl. If he hadn't felt so deeply for her.

If Gaster had known how much Ava meant to Sans . . . If Sans ever found out what his plans had been for her . . . He would never forgive him either.

It would probably be best if he never told him. Sans never needed to know.

"I'm so sorry." Gaster said softly.

"yeah . . . me too. Sans groaned, the entire ordeal weighing heavily over him. "i . . . i promised . . . i promised to get back to her . . . i promised to protect her . . . i broke my promise . . . i let her die . . . "

As they spoke, Gaster could feel the energy shift around them. Even without being aware of what he was doing, Sans' frustration was causing his magic to flare and he was beginning to draw in energy. If he couldn't calm himself soon, they would have a repeat of that first night on their hands.

"You did not _let_ her die." Gaster assured the distraught boy, attempting to talk him down. If he could tell Sans what _he'd_ wanted to hear back when these feelings had been fresh for him, perhaps it would be able to help. "Under the circumstances, you did the best you could. Ava's demise was _not_ of your doing. You know that there was nothing more you could have done. And what you _were_ able to do was . . ."

"i appreciate what you're trying to do, gaster . . ." Sans interrupted in a low tone, "but that doesn't change what happened! ava is _dead_ and it's _my_ fault. nothing will ever change that! even if i wasn't the one who . . . that doesn't change the fact that her death . . . that her blood . . ." Something flashed in Sans' mind and he was instantly taken back to that night. He could still feel the thick blood on his hands and he could still smell it in his nose and it bombarded his senses, completely overwhelming him. Unable to move, he had to shut his eyes tightly as he fought to keep himself from hyperventilating.

". . . oh god . . ."

The air became even heavier as more magic and power began to saturate it. Sans was steadily losing control and if Gaster couldn't turn this around quickly, it wouldn't end well for either of them. Luckily, Sans was already restrained to avoid the worst possible results. But at the rate Sans was going, those restraints would most do very little good if any at all.

"Sans . . ." Gaster tried to call through, attempting to convey a soothing even tone, "Sans, please try to calm yourself. You did not kill Ava! You would never do that. You would never have let her die. You are not responsible. Stop telling yourself you are! Take it from someone who knows! Nothing will come of you blaming yourself! You are only going to dig yourself into a deep and merciless abyss that you will never be able to pull yourself out of!"

Words weren't doing any good. He would have to take action.

Reaching out and thinking quickly, Gaster channeled his own magic trying to ignore the tense vibes of the room and focus squarely on Sans. He would flood Sans with his own magic, using it as a calming technique. He knew it would be difficult, but he'd done it before. He could do it again.

In the moments that followed, Gaster laid a hand atop Sans' skull and proceeded to send his magic through Sans, using it to communicate to the boy- to reassure him- to settle him. Gaster understood what Sans was feeling and he could sympathize with the pain. He used that common point as his way in. With time and comforting, Gaster was able to wordlessly take Sans' frantic energy and bring him back down to a near normal state. Sans was able to draw in deeper breaths and the static magic in the air dissipated. No, he wasn't completely back to normal, but he was no longer in danger of causing another explosion.

When Gaster removed his hand, Sans' face was still pained, but his nerves had been calmed. He was in control once again . . . perhaps, now he could continue.

He would have to be careful with Sans. He was a livewire, heated and unpredictable.

"I believe I understand now . . ." Gaster continued, letting out a long breath, ready to begin his questions again. "Is that why you attacked Gaine? Because you hold him responsible for what happened to Ava?"

Sans, still trying to catch his breath, almost didn't answer through his frustration, but eventually, he laid back heavily on his bed, glaring upward to the ceiling. "yes . . ." He huffed, "if not for papyrus . . . gaine . . . would not have made it through that night."

Gaster had to draw in a steadying breath as he was forced to remember Sans' humanity. "I see. You must have been furious."

"she didn't have to die!" Sans bit, " _none_ of them had to die!"

Gaster raised a brow. The human girl, he understood having a plan to save, but the other humans as well? All while in the face of the king's orders? "Do you see an alternative to the king's instructions?"

"yes!" Sans snapped.

"Now, that is interesting. Please, share your plan."

Sans was visibly fighting to return to his resting state and showing significant progress in doing so now that he had something else to focus on. He kept his eyes trained to the ceiling as he thought over how best to answer Gaster's question.

"again, that's a loaded question . . ." Sans let out another breath. "a while ago, papyrus checked out a book from the library about the history of magic. i thought it was interesting so i kept reading. it said that long ago, before the war, humans and monsters got along perfectly well. the monsters even taught willing humans how to use magic."

"Yes," Gaster nodded, "This is common knowledge."

"to a monster, yes, but hear me out. when i think about the human history books, it gives no mention of the monsters, it just says that humans, who were more adept at wielding magic were labeled mages and considered their own class. or . . . maybe even their own race as the class became even more select. over time, humans forgot their own inherent abilities and shunned anyone who showed any magical ability. mages were considered second-class citizens. during the war, the humans used mages, oftentimes against their will, as weapons and as tools against the monsters. that second class is what I am. i am a mage, adept at using blue magic.

"i was ridiculed for it my entire life, pushed around, beaten and ignored by my peers, so i hid my abilities until they eventually landed me here. i was thrown away like garbage because of what i am.

"but here . . . here, it's not like that at all! monsters are so much more understanding and accepting than humans. monsters who didn't even know me offered to help me. they healed me and gave me a suitable name when i didn't even know what to call myself . . . heh, those monsters set me on a path to find you. and since then, you and the others have been nothing but kind to me. i decided that i should help out in any way i could. i needed to repay you and all of the monsters for what you did for me.

"Well, despite where you are now, it does seem as if you haven't had the most pleasant of beginnings. I am sorry to hear you were treated so badly even by your own kind . . . I cannot say I'm surprised, however. All of that aside, what does this have to do with—"

"i'm getting there. hang on. now, the spell that keeps the monsters underground was set in place by seven mages, right?"

"That is correct."

"then it would take seven in order to break it."

"Again, this is common knowledge."

"but nowhere is it written that they had to be _dead_! they just have to be able to use the power of their own souls! their own magic! and that's where we could've helped them! that's where _i_ could've helped them! monsters used to teach humans magic. that could've happen again! and I know how magic works in a human body. i could've helped them from my own personal experience!

"that's what i was planning to do with ava! i would've taught her magic! we could've helped to break the barrier! the little blue soul . . . the yellow and green souls . . . ava . . . me . . . and anyone else who fell down here! we all could've helped and no one would've had to _die_ to do it!"

Once again, Gaster hesitated and he turned his eyes away for a moment. Sans' line of thinking was so pure that it nearly hurt to think about how naïve it really was. Again, Gaster had to remind himself that Sans was still just a kid. Maybe not in human years, but to a monster . . . to him . . .

"Sans . . . In a perfect world, perhaps that would have been a great plan . . . In a perfect world, there would be no need for such thoughts . . . However, real life is never that clear cut and simple. Humans . . . Are a vicious traitorous race, manipulative and greedy. Hell, even your precious Ava _killed_ people before she was captured! Or have you conveniently forgotten that detail?"

"she only ever fought _anyone_ in self defense! she never would have if she hadn't felt—"

"That doesn't excuse it from being true! Your attempts to justify her actions don't excuse the fact that monsters are dead because of what she did- that families have been torn apart because of her . . . And this is not limited to Ava. I've seen it time and again. Humans _cannot_ be trusted. It seems to be a general rule that applies to the entire species. You have seen first-hand how cruel humans can be to one of their own!"

Sans silenced for a moment.

"then what makes me so special?"

"You said it yourself. You no longer even consider yourself human. If mages are their own race altogether, then there's no point in lumping you in with the rest of them is there?"

There was a hint of a smile on Gaster's face as he said it, but Sans still seemed so dejected. Perhaps he still felt sentimental about his human origins . . . perhaps Gaster had unintentionally hurt Sans even further by disregarding his humanity.

Gaster cleared a tickling scratch in his throat before continuing.

"It is true that every human has the capacity for magic, and that some humans exhibit a higher aptitude for wielding it. Once upon a time, monsters saw great potential in the humans and the capability for magic, so we taught them how to use it. There were entire schools dedicated to teaching humans how to harness their own abilities. While some humans never advanced past the most simple of spells . . . there were others, extraordinary humans who surpassed even our expectations. The humans labeled these other humans 'witches', 'wizards', 'sorcerers' 'enchanters', and 'mages'. However, the first chance they got, the humans used what they were taught against their teachers . . . They betrayed us and threw us away, as you so aptly described it, like garbage.

"Many monsters have not forgotten the humans' betrayal, nor are they willing to give them a chance to betray us again. I doubt your plan would have been so readily accepted. In theory, it sounds wonderful . . . But I fear it all would have been wishful thinking."

Sans let out a breath as he listened. There was no point in arguing anymore. He had several generic and predictable lines stored away, "Not all humans are like that." Or "That doesn't mean we can't try." But the fact was, Gaster was right. He knew better about how the monsters felt. And Sans had witnessed it as well, the first monsters he ever met showed a deep resentment just at the mention of a human. And several times since then, humans had been talked about with similar sentiments.

"either way, we'll never know now, right, gaster?" Sans sighed, "with all the humans being slaughtered and all? actually . . . that reminds me. how much longer do i have anyway?"

Gaster stalled for a moment, the question catching him off-guard.

"Excuse me?"

"well, you know what i am now. and you still need three human souls, right . . . ? well two after mine."

"S-Sans . . . Where did . . . Weren't you listening before? Monsters do _not_ betray their allies!"

Sans couldn't help the dark chuckle that escaped, "but apparently, they would kill a kid before even giving them a chance. they could be the nicest and least violent kid ever and you murder them on sight because of what they look like . . . how very _human_ of you."

Gaster silenced this time, taking in Sans' accusation with a bit of salt. He couldn't deny that Sans did have a point, but he also couldn't ignore the thinking, the rationale, and the massive approval behind the king's declaration. After all, that exact thing had happened to his son, Asriel. Of course he wanted retribution. He wanted justice.

Even if Gaster didn't agree with the declaration, there would be nothing he could do about it now.

"Perhaps we should move on." Gaster resigned, readjusting his clipboard, "I do not wish to argue with you, Sans."

Sans scoffed, releasing it as a quiet hum. "yeah. probably best we did."

The conversation continued from there as both Gaster and Sans made to save face for the benefit of the other. Though they were both curious about what was to come and how Sans and his soul would play into the mix now that his cover had been blown, neither of them knew how to begin.

When the subject was brought up, it was approached with trepidation. After all, it was a very delicate subject. They would be discussing a very dangerous and highly experimental procedure that could jeopardize Sans' life . . . not to mention the relationship between them.

It could not be taken lightly . . . .

But perhaps that conversation could be delayed for a bit longer.

"I must admit," Gaster shrugged a long time into the conversation, deciding to change subject to something slightly less harrowing for the sake of both of their nerves, "I do feel a bit foolish having spent the past eight years calling you the wrong name. Especially if it was one you resented. There must be some way for you to communicate your given name."

"eh, it's fine. i've gotten used to it." Sans answered nonchalantly, "it's who i am now, and it's what you and the others know me by, so it's no big deal."

"Still, there must be a way. Now the curiosity is crushing. If only for my own records, I would like to know what name you used before you came to the Underground."

"thing is, i've tried everything to get it out there. when just saying it didn't work, i tried spelling it, writing it, whispering it, heh, even singing it. it all came out the same way."

"Perhaps another language, then? I know it has been a while since we've had a lesson in wingdings, but perhaps it could work as a sort of code."

Sans shook his head. "tried that too . . . as soon as i learned the sounds that made up my name . . . it's still speaking even if it is in hands . . . it's no use."

But even as he spoke, something sparked in the back of his mind, something that he and his friends used to do to convey secret messages to each other when they didn't want teachers . . . or Surl to find out. It worked well for them then . . . maybe it could work now.

"you know," Sans breathed quietly. The more he thought about it, the more excited he felt about the idea, "a code . . . might just work . . . if i do this right, i may be able to tell you my name after all."

Gaster gave a slight chuckle. "I knew you would think of something. So, what's your genius alternative?"

"well, i can't say my name outright, and I can't spell it . . . at least not directly. but I _can_ still speak. perhaps if i hide it in the words . . . i can still give you that bit of info."

Gaster's grin spread as he thought it over. "Interesting loophole, Sans! What did you have in mind?"

Sans spoke slowly as he thought about how best to do this. "just take down the first letter of each new sentence . . . that should do it."

Gaster nodded as he situated his clipboard and held his pen in a way that was comfortable to him. He nodded to Sans when he was ready.

Sans nodded back. From here on, he would have to be extremely careful about what he said and how he said it. He smiled to himself. His identity hinged on it.

" **S** o, let's begin. **I** 've never tried it this way before and i'm a little afraid it might not work. **M** y name has been forbidden to me for almost ten years now and it's incredibly frustrating! **M** aybe the curse hasn't already accounted for things like this, though!"

Sans paused for a long time, long enough for Gaster to look up.

"Space?"

Sans nodded.

Gaster nodded back, returning to the clipboard, "Last name now. Got it."

" **S** ee, you understand! **A** mazingly, it's not as difficult as i thought it would be. **N** ow, if you keep writing, we're almost done. **S** ince that day, i have been trying to find a way around this. **I** 've looked for any way i could to cheat the curse. **N** ever did i think this would be the solution! **G** iven the circumstances, however, i suppose it does make sense."

Sans let out a breath and a bit of a smile at the end. He'd done it! Finally after eight years, trying to say, spell, and write his name, he was able to convey the information by hiding it in a normal conversation. He was unbelievably relieved and though he was still strapped down to the bed, he felt light as the heavy weight was lifted from over him. He looked upward toward the ceiling and willed himself not to start crying again.

"Simm Sansing . . . ?"

"yes!" Sans grinned, "oh, god, finally! that's it! that's my name!"

"I do see why they would have latched onto 'Sans'." Gaster nodded, "Well, it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Simm."

"likewise!" The boy smiled, brighter and more genuinely than he had in years.

Doctor Gaster couldn't help but smile too as he lowered his head and his pen.

"And that makes seven." He muttered quietly.

Sans focused again on the doctor, curiosity and confusion evident in his expression along with the relief and elation of the past few minutes, "seven what, gaster? you've been randomly counting up for a long time now. what are you tracking?"

"Oh," Gaster hummed, with a low chuckle to the sound, "That . . . I just . . . that was the seventh time I have ever witnessed a truly genuine smile from you, Sans . . . I mean Simm."

Sans halted, his sockets going wide and if he still had his skin, he would most likely have been blushing. The doctor had been studying _him_ this entire time . . . ? And something so trivial as how often he _smiled_? Even he hadn't been paying that much attention . . . so for Gaster to point it out really caught him off guard.

"bu-but, i'm always smiling, doc." Sans stammered, fighting to find his composure and chuckling a bit himself to try to regain his nerves, "part of my natural charm. don't you know that by now?"

"I think, perhaps, now I really do. Thank you for explaining it for me. Now, I believe you to be stable once again, so how about we get you out of those restraints. And I am sure the others will want to know your status. You really worried them."

"yeah . . ." Sans sighed, "sorry about that. but, hey. before that, do you think you could send papyrus in first . . . i-i just . . . i wanna see him."

Gaster, who had since laid down his clip board to unbuckle Sans' restraints and free his arms and legs from the bed, looked up at Sans for a moment.

"I believe that can be arranged."

Sans sighed, "thanks, doc."

Within minutes, Sans was free and he immediately shook out his arms and legs as he expressed his full range of motion once again. He sat upright in the bed and stretched his arms straight over his head. It actually felt more relieving to be able to move again than lying down.

As Sans stretched, Dr. Gaster stood, gathering up his clip board again and turning to leave the room.

"Though there is still very much we need to discuss, it is important for you to recalibrate. You've missed out on a few weeks, and around here, that's an entire lifetime. We will talk again later, after you have had that opportunity."

"o-oh, yeah . . . of course." Sans answered as he pushed himself to the edge of the bed and prepared to test his legs once again. The two of them still needed to discuss what was to become of Sans now that he was awake. Now that his secrets were out, they had to decide how to continue forward. Should they report to the king and risk what could happen? Should they conceal the information altogether? And what of Sans' soul? Would they be able to use it to help in their research . . . or should they continue on as if they hadn't seen anything at all and life could go back to normal at the lab.

But the problem with that was . . . "normal" didn't exist anymore. Everything had changed for them all in the course of one night . . . not counting that two week recovery time. And there was nothing that could make things go back to the way they were before. Still the question remained.

"so, what's next?" Sans muttered, more to himself, as he stared downward toward his feet that could only barely touch the surface of the floor.

Gaster was nearing the door and prepared to walk through it until the question was asked.

"Next . . . you regain yourself . . . you are no longer a captive here and I expect you to use this free time to your advantage before we meet again to discuss the future. However, I will send Papyrus in to you. He was extremely worried about you as well and I know he is looking forward to the opportunity to see you again. I will let you meet with the others at your own discretion. Perhaps later this evening or even tomorrow, we can meet again to talk about how best to move forward from here."

Sans nodded slowly, his mind already working in overdrive to come to a decision.

"sounds like a plan. then . . . then, i'll see you later, yeah?"

"Absolutely."

But before Gaster could walk through the door, Sans shot his head up to call back to him.

"hey, um . . . doc?"

Gaster stalled again. "Yes, Sans?"

Sans stalled as well as he thought about how best to word his question. There had been something playing itself over and over in the back of his mind . . . something Gaster said . . . something Gaster had called him . . . and it wouldn't let him continue without getting confirmation from the doctor himself.

"did you mean what you said before . . . ?"

"I never say anything I don't mean. You will need to be more specific about which instance."

Sans lowered his head with a hum. "Nevermind. You just answered my question . . . thanks, gaster."

"Of course," The doctor hesitated again before exiting, "Welcome back, Sans."

* * *

It didn't take long afterward for the door to open again. Sans heard the movement of the door hinges even before the tentative voice.

"Brother . . . ? Brother, are you feeling better now? Dr. Gaster said you asked for me?"

Sans had been gripping tightly to the side of the bed trying to use it as support as he regained the strength in his legs. It had been a while since he used them and he needed to work out the stiffness. But at the sound of Papyrus' voice, he immediately stopped and looked up toward him.

"Papyrus!" Sans called, making his way toward where the door had opened. He was still a bit slower than normal, but he no longer needed the support of the bed to traverse the room.

Still, Papyrus took careful steps inside, adjusting his gloves to make sure he wouldn't accidently touch Sans and absorb his remaining HP. He would have to be exceedingly cautious from now on if he wanted for his brother to remain—

Papyrus was shocked out of his thoughts when he felt a certain weight around his middle. He drew in a breath as he was encapsulated in the sudden embrace. Sans clung tightly to Papyrus as if he hadn't seen him in years. It was . . . not normal for Sans to be physical with Papyrus and he couldn't think of a time Sans ever _hugged_ anyone, much less him. But now . . . it seemed as if something deep may have triggered the shift. It seemed as if Sans may have even needed the hug more than Papyrus.

But still, Papyrus was not about to let the opportunity go. In response, the taller Skeleton took the smaller in his arms and held fast without saying a word. From the feel of the slightly trembling form in his embrace, Papyrus was right about Sans. He buried his face in Papyrus' sweater and gripped tightly into the fabric. It didn't seem as if he was going to let go of his grip for quite some time.

When he spoke, there was no sound to his voice. It was a quiet whisper that was nearly drowned completely in the sweater and Papyrus had to strain to hear.

". . . thanks, pap . . ." Sans whispered.

"Oh, well of course you're welcome!" Papyrus answered on instinct, "What did I do?"

To his surprise, Sans actually laughed, though, the broken sound came through as short, disjointed scoff-like puffs more than an actual genuine laugh. "nothin' special." He shrugged, "just being your usual self."

"Oh . . ." Papyrus couldn't help but feel a little dejected . . . just a little. After all, Sans was feeling better now . . . he supposed . . . and he credited Papyrus with that, so even if what he did wasn't anything special, it was enough to earn his brother's praise.

Of course Sans heard the sullen tone in Papyrus' voice and instantly amended his response, "well, your usual self is pretty great already, you know? you came in when i needed you and you said exactly the right thing. exactly what i needed to hear and . . . i can . . . i can honestly say that i wouldn't be here right now if it weren't for you . . . so- yeah . . . thanks, bro."

As he spoke, Sans' grip got even tighter. It seemed as if he really did need this hug.

"Well, you are most welcome, Sans."

Papyrus continued to hold him until Sans gently pulled away, trying to hide the way he wiped at his eyes. Papyrus had to hold back when he saw. Sans was still crying. He had to stop that from happening.

Before he could act, however, Sans turned away to sit back on the edge of his bed . . . he looked sluggish as if he was still incredibly tired. Papyrus had to wonder why he was having so much trouble waking himself up and getting back to being normal. It just made him feel so powerless and Papyrus hated that feeling.

Papyrus followed and took a seat next to Sans when the shorter Skeleton patted the space beside him. It had been quite a while since they were able to sit together like that . . . and the most vivid memory had been that night in one of the other examination rooms when Gaster had both of them hooked up to that machine . . . the same machine was currently standing idle in the corner without a purpose now that Sans was awake. Back then, the two of them could barely communicate at all . . . Back then, Papyrus had a very limited vocabulary and Sans didn't understand a word of wingdings.

That felt like so long ago . . .

As Papyrus stole a glance toward his brother, he noticed the other's downtrodden slouch and the long breath he expelled as he looked downward at nothing in particular.

"You _are_ feeling better now, aren't you?" Papyrus felt inclined to ask.

"yeah." Sans answered quietly, "loads better now . . . at least i'm as good as I'm gonna get, which is loads better than i was, you know?"

"I . . . believe so." Papyrus nodded, "But this can't be as good 'as good as you're gonna get'. Surely there has to be a way to get you back to your full power and your full capacity."

At the very least, he had to make sure Sans stopped crying.

"look, i appreciate the effort, but you can't force these things, pap. for now, we'll just have to wait and see. who knows . . . maybe someday this will even be easy . . . but for now, i'm takin it five minutes at a time. sound good?"

Papyrus was slow to respond. "No, it doesn't sound good. It sounds _horrible_! Why would anyone want to live like that? It would be like you're always living sub-par, like you're never really at full strength! That sounds terrible!"

"heh, it's not like i _want_ to. it's just . . . how it's gonna have to be."

"Until we get you feeling back to your normal self, right?"

Sans hesitated as he trained his eyes back to his feet. Of course, he didn't feel as if that day would ever come . . . but he couldn't tell that to Papyrus . . .

"right, bro." He answered quietly, "and if i have you here to help me out . . ."

"It should go twice as fast!"

Sans hummed, his smile turning fond, "i like the way you think, paps."

"Just you wait, brother! You'll feel better in no time!"

The two of them sat together for a while longer, not really talking much about anything, but simply enjoying the other's company. It was relaxing in a way that nothing else ever could be. They talked about everything and nothing until the conversation turned to what Sans supposed all of his conversations would turn now.

"So, what's next for you, brother?" Papyrus asked, a piercing curiosity in his words and in his tone, "Is Dr. Gaster going to let you work in the lab again? Can you finally go back to being a scientist?"

Sans chuckled to himself, idly moving to shove his hands in his pockets, only to remember that he didn't have any. His feet kicked just above the ground instead.

"i don't think so, pap." He answered, gripping loosely at the sheets on either side of where he sat , "I'm gonna go see gaster a bit later to talk about that actually . . . but i think my employment here might be at an end. no matter what they say . . . i just- i don't think they'd want . . . someone like me around."

Papyrus thought it over for a few moments before he responded, crossing his arms and letting out a contemplative hum.

"I don't believe that to be true at all." He said, "You have been helping here for a long time. Longer than anyone except for the doctor. If anything, they would need someone like you who has the experience and time behind him to know what to do. Not only that, but this whole time, the other scientists have been saying how nothing has been the same without you and how badly they want you back. No matter what _you_ say, no matter what you may think, you are very popular around here, brother, and I'm certain that if you just asked, Dr. Gaster would give you your job back."

"yeah, it sounds great when you say it like that, but . . . even if he said yes, i don't think that i would be able to go back. not after this . . . if they didn't say no, then i probably would."

"Do you not want to go back to work?"

"nah, that's not the issue . . . this is a very demanding job, bro . . . and i think . . . i don't think i can keep up . . . my body . . . it's just not . . . i'm not strong enough anymore."

Papyrus took another look toward his brother and tried to take in everything he was saying.

"Then we make you stronger again! I can talk to Undyne if you like! I'm sure she'll let you train! You can become stronger! And when you're strong enough, you can come back to the lab! It's the perfect plan!"

Sans let his eyes drift closed, "it is a good idea . . . just not one that would work for me, i don't think."

"You don't think?" Papyrus challenged, "Well, how will you know if you never try!?"

Sans remained silent and didn't answer.

"Brother . . .?"

As Papyrus watched, Sans began to slump even more. It looked as if he was about to fall off of the bed.

"Sans!"

Immediately, Papyrus reached out, catching Sans and pulling him against his chest. At the sudden change, Sans was startled awake once again.

"oh, hey . . . hey, it's okay! i'm up . . . i'm up . . . paps . . . let me –"

"Shh! Not a chance. You're staying right here."

And rather than argue, Sans let out a breath and allowed himself be held against Papyrus' chest . . . for now . . . how embarrassing . . .

. . . but at the same time, it was oddly soothing. Just knowing that Papyrus was there to make sure he didn't fall. It made him feel . . . safe.

"I see you were right, Sans." Papyrus said after a moment or two. "As you are right now, it wouldn't be wise for you to go back to work. You need to get stronger before that happens. So, how do we get you stronger?"

"i'm already feeling better, bro." Sans answered, "maybe some food, that's all . . . after that, i'll be right as rain. after all, it's been two weeks since i've had a good meal. maybe that'll be the turning point. heh, i may even hit up grillby's a bit later. we'll see."

Papyrus didn't answer as Sans pulled away again and this time, Papyrus let him go. He supposed Sans could be trusted to sit on his own for a while . . . as long as he kept his eyes opened while they spoke. They had to find food for him soon so he could regain his strength.

"but as I hear it," Sans continued, shifting the focus of the conversation, "you've been slacking recently too! you've been skipping out on training so you can wait around here for me."

Papyrus nodded, "I didn't want to risk missing you when you woke up."

"well that can end here." Sans pushed with a decisive nod of the head, "i'm not gonna hold you back anymore, okay? and you don't wanna go without training for too long or else you might start to get rusty."

Papyrus' face fell for a moment as he frowned through Sans' words. As Sans spoke, Papyrus pushed back his sleeves, checking his radius and ulna for evidence of this rust.

When Sans saw what Papyrus was doing, he openly laughed. "silly me." He grinned, "i should've known that someone as awesome as you would be impervious to rust! i'll tell you what. tomorrow, you get back to your training and i'll work on getting back to normal, okay? we'll check in with each other when you get back. sound like a deal?"

Papyrus hesitated for a moment thinking it over. Of course he didn't feel completely right leaving Sans alone after what just happened. If he was going to be randomly passing out like that while he was trying to get better, he ran the risk of hurting himself . . .

But, on the other hand, Sans really wouldn't be alone, would he? He would have Gaster and Miss Alphys and the others just in case something happened. They cared about Sans too and Papyrus felt as if he could trust them to take care of his brother while he prevented the rust from setting in.

Papyrus sat for a moment, drumming his fingers over his knees before he finally nodded.

"Deal." He answered.

* * *

Once he was up to it and once he felt comfortable enough to walk down the hallways without relying much on the walls, Sans decided to try his luck with the break room. He could get something from the vending machine to tie him over until he could get to Grillby's. And maybe while he was in there, he could meet up with the others. After all, it was during the lunch hour . . . perhaps they would be in there. Who knows? He might get lucky.

It was agreed that Papyrus would hang back for the moment. Even though the others knew about him now and they even knew that he was out of the holding cell, they were still apprehensive about having him near them. So Papyrus remained behind while Sans ventured toward the break room.

As he approached, he could hear the quiet tones of hushed conversation.

"I'm just saying that maybe it's about time, don't you think? Even though we've got Alphys back for the time being, we're still _way_ behind schedule. We need the help. There's no getting around it."

"But is it too soon is the real question here."

"It's been two weeks. That's long enough for something like this."

"Is it? And you have to ask, after everything that's happened, will he even be willing to return?"

"Y-you wouldn't think so, would you? I-I- I mean it happened so suddenly . . . there would be some bitterness there, but - but if he can put that b-bitterness aside, he p-probably could come back, d-don't you think?"

"I suppose we could ask the doctor about it . . . but that doesn't guarantee a positive response, I'm afraid. Especially after what happened."

"heh, well it depends on how bad it really was, i think. i mean, gaster is pretty selective especially if it has to do with operations around here."

At the sound of the unexpected fifth voice, the other assistants lifted their eyes and turned toward the door.

"Sans!"

Almost immediately, Alphys and Baelin stood from their chairs surrounding the table and approached the doorway where Sans was leaning.

"hey, guys . . . um . . . long time no see. how's everyone holding up?"

"Welcome back, Sans." Ruddard sounded from where he stood. He did not approach. Maltez turned his head and waved, giving a quiet, "Hey, Sans." But he did not stand or approach.

"hey . . . just so you know . . . i'm really sorry about what happened in the examination room. gaster told me that i . . . almost hurt you. i . . . i'm sorry you had to be in there for that. of course, if i could have controlled it . . . i never would have . . . that whole thing would have been . . ."

"Sans!" Alphys interjected, "S-sans, it's okay! We're- we're all fine."

"Yeah," Baelin joined in, "We're just glad you're okay. You really had us worried there. We're just . . . glad to have you back!"

He let out a low sound as he situated himself against the door frame, "thanks, al . . . bae."

The ladies nodded back to him with enthusiasm behind their smiles.

Though Sans had smiled through it, it didn't escape his notice when Maltez and even Ruddard had diverted their attention and let Baelin and Alphys shoulder the excitement. It seemed as if not everyone was quite as excited to see him again. The two of them continued their conversation as he, Baelin, and Alphys spoke.

Of course, he had expected as much. Honestly, it was a wonder that Alphys and Baelin could even stand to be so near to him after what he did . . . he couldn't even fathom why any of them, including Gaster, could still find it in them to be in the same room with him.

No, he didn't blame Maltez or Ruddard at all for being hesitant . . . but still it wasn't a great feeling to be at the receiving end of their skepticism.

Sans lowered his gaze once again as he honed in on the current conversation.

"would i be right to assume we were talking about gaine just now? you wanna get him back on board, right?"

Baelin hesitated now as well, shifting her gaze down to the floor for a moment. She could pick up on the slight darkness in Sans' voice that sounded almost accusatory. "Well, yeah. He's been gone a while and we could really use the help."

Sans nodded slowly in response, letting out another low hum as he thought about how best to respond.

"yeah, it makes sense." Sans answered in a near mumble, "it really does . . . and despite everything, gaine is a good worker. he would . . . definitely be able to help get things back up to speed around here . . . it's just . . . i don't know how we . . ."

"What's the matter, Sans?" Maltez bit, "Nervous about meeting Gaine again after you nearly _murdered_ him!? Are you afraid of what'll happen if he hasn't conveniently forgotten about your fight like some _other_ people around here? Are you afraid to face him again after what you did?"

"Maltez!" Alphys gasped.

"Oh! I'm sorry. Is that a sore subject for you, human!? Or are you just upset because you couldn't finish the job? Look, you may have Gaster and the girls wrapped around your bony little finger, but some of us aren't so easy to fool!"

"Stop it, Maltez!" Baelin snapped back, "We still don't know the whole story. For all we know, it could have been—"

"And you're _still_ defending him!" Maltez fumed, finally pushing his chair back to stand, "Wake up, Baelin! That . . . _imposter_ never cared. Not about you or any of us! He proved that when he chose to let that human girl out of her cage! When he chose her instead of all of us!"

"You don't know that! Think about before! Would the Sans you've known for so long have ever –"

"no, baelin, it's okay." Sans sighed as he stepped into the breakroom toward where Maltez and Ruddard now stood, "he's right."

"But, Sans . . . you're _not_ like that! You're one of us. Part of this team!"

"heh, but i'm no monster. never was. and i might have even drawn a line in the sand when i tried to save ava . . . when i fought gaine after he _killed_ her. and i might not ever be able to see eye to eye with you or with gaine ever again, but i never _once_ lied about what i was doing here. about why i was here! don't ever take me for anything less than what i've shown you! this whole time, i was working just like the rest of you to free everyone! i wanted to get to the surface just as much as you! and for the most part, that's still true, so if you think that it'll go faster with gaine on board again, then, by all means bring him back! i mean, i _hate_ the guy. i can't stand his guts. but, i'm in no position to hold you back and i will respect your decision. shoot, it's not like i'll ever be able to come back to work anyway! so, go talk to gaster! get the team back! break the barrier! that's all any of us ever wanted right? just don't expect me to be civil with a guy who has no desire to be civil with me, got it? "

Sans' voice showed that he was obviously angry, but the passion there was genuine. Even if it meant meeting the one who caused him such strife and such pain . . . the one with whom there would never be a real sense of peace, Sans knew that having Gaine back would be the best bet of having the team work efficiently.

"but it isn't my decision. or even yours. gaster's the one who will have the final say in it. so, talk to him."

Maltez stood opposite Sans, glaring at him and almost challenging him to continue. But Sans didn't back down. He didn't back down from Gaine and he was not about to shrink at the sight of Maltez.

Realizing quickly that this staring contest would lead to nothing. Maltez huffed and turned away.

"Alright then, I will." He stormed off immediately afterward, "Gaine says hi, by the way."

As soon as Maltez was gone and Ruddard, looking a bit torn, followed him, Sans let out a long breath and it seemed as if his composure went right along with it. His vision began to swirl and he nearly stumbled forward as he regained his balance. Immediately, Alphys and Baelin came in to set him straight.

"S-Sans! Are you okay?"

"How are you feeling?"

Sans released a low chuckle, insisting that he could stand on his own by gently refusing their help. "you want the long answer or the short?"

The girls looked at each other before answering simultaneously. "Long."

"heh, too bad." Sans shook his head, and took the seat nearest the vending machine, "i'm fine, ladies, so don't worry, okay? fully functional and everything."

"Sans, you don't need to lie to us anymore." Baelin sighed as she took the seat beside him. "You've been through a lot and it's okay _not_ to be okay. Okay? We just . . . we want to help."

"i'm fine." Sans reiterated as he shifted in his seat to study the contents of the vending machine.

Trail mix . . . ? Yeah. Trail Mix. He paid and pushed in his selection, "i'm just hungry. that's all."

Alphys and Baelin looked at each other once again, silently communicating to each other. Sans was still acting a bit off . . . quieter than normal, mumbling more than usual. He seemed distant . . . distracted. But they supposed that was to be expected.

Still, they wished they could do more for him than just ask him how he was feeling only to get lies in return.

"S-so . . . have you g-given any thought to what happens n-now?" Alphys asked sheepishly.

"heh, only with every new conversation." Sans answered, as he opened his bag of trail mix and took a handful . . . it wasn't very satisfying, but it was something. "i know we're all in a bit of a bind right now, but still . . . there has to be a way to get things back to the way they're supposed to be. gaster's work is at a bit of a standstill . . . and, as i've heard it, so is yours. i just wish i knew a way that was easy and simple and painless . . . but i'm starting to see that . . . that's not gonna be possible, no matter what option we take."

Alphys and Baelin hum to themselves as they listen in on Sans' debate. They still had no idea the exact process, but they could sense the deep turmoil churning in his mind and it weighed on them.

But still . . . there was one thing they could do for Sans. Something that could at least help him feel a little less . . . helpless.

Baelin caught Alphys' eye and gave a curt nod of her head. At the signal, Alphys nodded back, leaving the break room immediately, on a mission.

"Well . . . it might not be much, but we just . . . we wanted to help a little bit. Something . . . well, to help or maybe help things at least _feel_ a little more normal . . . even if it isn't."

Sans stilled for a moment, and put the trail mix down on the table. What was Baelin going on about? Was she leading up to something?

"We know things are really crazy right now and there's not much anyone can do about it . . . and we know you've been heavily affected by it . . . more than the rest of us. So, Alphys and I had an idea that maybe we could give you some of what you lost back."

"something i lost . . . ?" Sans hesitated. Honestly, he hadn't even given much thought to anything outside of that night . . . the only thing he'd really lost . . . all he really wanted back was Ava . . . and it wasn't like they could pull that off.

"We got Ruddard and even Dr. Gaster to help out. He agreed that it was all a bit much . . . so he wanted to help as well."

"We found someone in the capital who was a seamstress and we commissioned her to make this for you." Alphys chimed in, laying a small package on the table in front of Sans. It was soft . . . wrapped in brown paper and tied off with twine.

"guys . . . ?" He asked softly. Already, something was playing at Sans' heart even before he opened it. Just that they'd gotten so many people to help put this together was a little overwhelming.

"W-well. Open it!" Alphys pushed, clasping her hands together.

Sans did, tearing into the paper and shifting the twine to move around the fabric within. The color was a very familiar blue and the material was very soft.

"guys . . ." Sans repeated, taking the garment in his hands and pulling it free of its paper casings.

It was almost an exact replica of his jacket . . . the same blue jacket that he'd wrapped Ava in when she'd been bleeding so badly. Almost every seam was in the same place. And this jacket even came with one or two updates. Extra removable lining . . . and . . .

"fur? a fur hood?"

"Well, faux fur. When Gaster gave his input, he said that you like to spend your free time in Snowdin at Grillby's so . . . we thought to add in a little something for the weather."

Sans went silent as he gripped the jacket in his hands, staring intently at it. These guys . . . they had been so selfless and considerate of him . . . while he had been moping and feeling sorry for himself. They'd come together to do this for him . . . to give him back a small piece of what made him . . . him.

It was in that moment, looking down at the jacket in his hands and feeling the literal and figurative warmth radiating from it, Sans came to a resolution. He kept thinking about how much these monsters put into finding the perfect gift for him. His colleagues . . . his friends had all pitched in to get it for him . . . all in spite of everything that happened recently . . . they were still . . .

There was no doubt in his mind anymore of what he had to do or that it was the right thing.

. . . Damn emotion was starting to get the better of him again. That sting behind his eyes, the tightness of his throat. It was happening again.

The girls looked to Sans as he stayed quiet and still for longer than they expected. The more they watched on, the more Sans seemed to sink into his thoughts.

Moments later there was a slight change . . . were those . . . tears coming from his eyes? Was . . . was Sans _crying_?

"Sans . . . ?"

"i'll do it." He said firmly, though it seemed all the sound had left his voice.

"I-I'm sorry?" Alphys questioned, "What?"

"i'm gonna volunteer for the machine."

Immediately, Alphy's eyes went wide. "W-what!? Sans! N-no! You can't! It-it's still experimental . . . a-a-a prototype at _best_!"

"i know. but i'm the only one who can . . . and if it means that i would be help you, then . . . that's enough for me."

"Sans . . ." Baelin muttered "I . . . don't think . . . that's a good idea. Given the state of your soul . . . not to mention your HP . . . it's too dangerous."

"this is the very least i could possibly do for all of you. you've done more for me than i could ever say. let me pay you back. please . . . if it means saving you from being trapped here. if it prevents more people like ava from dying, then sign me up. with what little i have left . . . i wanna help free the monsters in any way i can."

For the third and final time, Baelin and Alphys exchanged silent looks before each monster lowered her head.

Baelin stood first and leaned in, touching her head to Sans' shoulder. For a long while, she was unable to settle on anything to say to him.

"Good luck, Sans." She finally squeaked out before she had to turn and leave the room.

To both of them it felt less like "good luck" and more like "goodbye".

"Thanks, Bae." Sans whispered to her before she left.

That just left Alphys.

"I-I guess we have c-come to a conclusion . . ." She stammered in quiet solemnity, "I-I'll let Dr. Gaster know . . . I-in the morning, w-we'll get you s-started on the . . . on the machine."

* * *

Morning came a little too quickly. Sans didn't get much sleep as the anxiety about the experiment weighed on him.

Alphys stayed the night in the lab, expecting to get an early start in the morning. The others, however, did not. None of them wanted to be around when the time came to send Sans into the machine. Of course they had their own reasons. Maltez still needed the time to cool off after their spat. Ruddard was still torn on the whole matter- though he didn't want to witness what could happen, so he stayed away. He would come in for his regular shift . . . just avoid the basement at all costs. Baelin was still adamant about Sans not going into the machine. Though he had a human soul . . . and it was the only one they had with a living host, she didn't want to see her friend do anything that could put him in danger. Sans was worth so much more than just a soul . . . even if he didn't see it. So, she stayed away as well, deciding, like Ruddard, to come in for her regular shift.

It seemed as if none of the other assistants could compose themselves enough to go into the room with Gaster, Alphys, and Sans as they prepared to use the machine.

So . . . it would just be the three of them, then.

Upon Sans' recommendation, Papyrus left early to continue his training with Undyne and the Royal Guard. When the Skeleton hesitated, Sans hugged him again and assured him that he would be cautious and take things easy for a while. With time, he would be back to his usual self and he could continue working in the lab.

At least that's what Sans said.

It wasn't _that_ far from the truth. As Sans made his way through the hallways of the lower levels with Gaster and Alphys, he had to admit, there was a part of him that felt guilty about lying to Papyrus about his plans . . . but it would be better if Paps wasn't waiting around the lab worried about him all day.

The walk was silent. Not one of them said a thing to the other and they each seemed distracted by the thoughts going through their minds. None of them had been able to sleep well the night before, in fact. And they'd all stayed awake, trying to distract themselves from their anxieties.

Sans had spent his night, wandering the halls absently, trying to find it in him to relax. Of course nothing came of it. He had even been tempted to go to Papyrus' room and sit with him a while, but the Skeleton was finally sleeping for the first time in almost two weeks. Just that thought was enough to distract Sans for maybe three minutes. If Papyrus could go so long without sleeping, then perhaps he didn't need to sleep at all. Was he just doing it because he felt it was the normal thing to do? Funny, Sans never bothered to ask. Maybe, if this thing went well, he could ask Papyrus about it.

But for that night, Sans let him sleep. He would be the only one who could.

When Sans looked up from his feet again, he'd found himself in the door of the break room. Alphys was sitting at the table with a cup of ramen, stirring the noodles slowly with her chopsticks. The cup didn't even seem hot anymore and Sans had to wonder how long she had been sitting there.

She was startled when he approached. She really had been zoned out, not even focused on the ramen.

In response, Sans tried to cheer her up. Hey, maybe it would work for him too. They swapped a few really bad jokes between them and Alphys offered Sans a ramen cup. Sans, having skipped his trip to Grillby's, decided it would be a good idea to eat something since he wouldn't be sleeping, and accepted.

A few bites into it, Sans let out a sigh, muttering something about how the ramen brought back memories.

Curious, Alphys looked up from her reheated cup. She remembered then that Sans hadn't grown up in the Underground, that he was _human_. The realization did, indeed, intrigue Alphys and though a small nagging part of her was concerned about being rude, the larger part of her was more curious about Sans' experiences on the surface.

It started with one question that turned into a quiz. Soon it was a test that turned into a marathon.

Before they knew it, they had spent the entire night talking about humans and the surface.

It had been a nice distraction until Gaster had come by with a very somber, "It's time."

Gaster had spent the night alone in his room, pacing, reading, checking and double checking and triple checking to make sure the specifications were sound for the machine. It was one thing in his mind to have a human enter the machine and for their soul to be searched and drained of its Determination . . . it was an entirely different matter now that it was Sans who would be the subject of the experiment. He had to make sure it was perfect. He had to make sure nothing would go wrong.

He had taken the blueprints down to the basement to inspect and look over the machine again. Alphys really had done an impeccable job with the machine's construction. It was nearly flawless work. Maybe a screw here or a nut there that could have been a bit tighter, but Gaster being the stronger of the two fixed those issues quickly. He couldn't afford for the machine to come loose and break down while Sans was inside . . .

Gaster would have been lying if he said that there wasn't a part of him that wished Sans would have refused the machine. He wouldn't have blamed the boy and it would have taken a significant weight from over all of them.

But Sans said that he wanted to help and if the best way he saw to help was to offer himself to the machine and to Gaster's experiments . . . Gaster had to respect his wishes.

But he would be monitoring everything, keeping absolutely everything in order and in line.

After so long of not saying anything to each other, even the most unassuming of sighs seemed to sound loud and clear in the empty and silent space.

They had arrived.

Even as they entered the room, the air seemed to shift and become dark and heavy as they regarded the towering apparatus. The machine easily took the space of about half the room despite it being centered. The hulking thing seemed to be equipped with suspension mechanics as well. It was bolted to the ceiling as well as the wall, but it could barely even reach the floor at all. For the moment, it was perched at the edge of an enormous pit and anything below floor level seemed to fall into a never-ending dark abyss.

Well, that looked welcoming . . .

As Sans looked up at it, he noted that it actually looked a bit like a skull with a split maxilla where its front teeth would have been. There were the eyes . . . and inside the nasal cavity there was a single seat . . . like an electric chair . . . encased in plexiglass, creating a chamber for the specimen . . . for him . . .

There seemed to be some tubing that connected the chamber to the rest of the face. Is that where the Determination would be siphoned and stored until it could be harvested?

Sans swallowed, his nerves threatening to come up and settle in his throat. He was . . . intimidated.

Still, better him than Ava. Better him than any other innocent kid.

Gaster could almost feel the apprehension in his former apprentice and when he looked to him, he noticed that Sans' eyes had gone completely black and he seemed to be breathing a bit more heavily.

Gaster laid a hand atop Sans' shoulder, effectively tearing him out of his thoughts.

"You know," Gaster suggested, his tone quiet, but assuring, "You could always say 'no'. It is a viable and understandable option."

Sans hesitated again, looking back toward the machine as his hand reached up to grab at the fabric over his chest.

"no." He said firmly, "this is something i have to do."

"We have waited this long," Gaster pushed, "surely, a little longer will not be an issue."

"no." Sans said again, "i'm not gonna wait for another kid to fall down here, not when i am perfectly capable of goin in myself. i'd rather you use _my_ soul, gaster. use it to break the barrier. that way, no one else will have to die."

So there would be no talking him out of it then . . . Fine, it was worth a final attempt.

Steeling himself, Gaster stepped forward toward the machine.

"Come, Alphys. Sans. We have work to do."

The two scientists led Sans toward the large machine, all the while, each of them fighting off their own apprehension.

"We will start small today." Gaster began again, trying to keep the silence at bay. "We will only be testing your strength. We will need to see how the machine will affect you and what kind of pressure it puts on your soul. We might not even get to the actual extraction process."

Sans and Alphys nodded their understanding and for both of them, there was a very slight sense of relief. Of course . . . this was only day one . . . it wasn't as if they were just going to go full out on the first day. Sans would have to build up a tolerance to how the machine worked. Gaster and Alphys needed to observe and decide how to proceed.

How could they have forgotten?

But still, as they lifted the maxilla and the glass casing to reveal the inner workings of the chamber, there was a looming and overwhelming sense of foreboding. It was just so . . .

Formidable.

"so, pretty much this thing is going to eat me and spit out my soul." Sans stated. It wasn't a question, just his interpretation of what was about to happen.

Despite himself and despite the situation, there was a bit of a smile that pulled at the corners of Gaster's mouth. Hadn't the other human, the King and que- er- Toriel's human child, said something similar? Hadn't they been afraid that Gaster would eat them and harvest their soul . . . ? Or something like that.

Perhaps that conversation was where this project had its roots. Perhaps that child was more influential than Gaster had given them credit for. Interesting.

"M-more accurately, it will s-search your soul for Determination." Alphys amended, "Now, we have no idea what this will do to a living host, s-so, we will be relying on you, Sans, to-to walk us through what is happening. You will n-need to describe everything to us in f-full detail and if it gets to be too-too m-much for you, you will need to tell us to st-stop."

"so, more of a soul searching game of red light green light?" Sans scoffed.

"S-Sans, please. That last part is the m-most important. I don't want anything to-to happen to you."

"no, I got you . . . i'm just trying to ' _lighten'_ the mood . . ."

"We know, Sans." Gaster started again, acknowledging the attempt as well as why it had been made, "Thank you."

With that, Gaster and Alphys pushed aside the parts of themselves that were worried about Sans and helped him clamber into the chamber. The front of the machine seemed to be resting at the moment at the edge of the pit. But though it was at floor level for the moment, its size still made it a bit challenging to scale and Sans was a bit ungainly in his attempt to situate himself in the unforgiving wooden chair. And from what Sans had been able to gather, once the machine was in use, the entire chamber would be suspended over the pit itself, making it nearly impossible to find a means of escape if he had been looking for one. A frightened human captive would have no chance in this thing.

. . . which meant that it was very well designed . . .

As Sans pushed these thoughts from his head, he came back to the feel of a sharp pull on his arm. Alphys was tightening some leather straps around his wrists, buckling him down and preventing him from moving again.

"why do all of these things have straps?" Sans muttered more to himself than to the others, "didn't i _just_ get out of these?"

"I know they're uncomfortable." Gaster sighed and from the tone in his voice, it seemed as if he was feeling a bit conflicted about these methods as well, "Just try to remain calm while the machine is in use. Keep your hands on the readers here and here so the machine can monitor how much magic is being used and how much of it is Determination."

Sans gripped at the rounded edges of the handles and felt the cold hard metallic surface beneath his fingers. And as he sat, another apparatus was fitted over his nose and mouth almost like an oxygen mask. The tube was attached to the chair as well.

Overall, to Sans, it felt a lot more like an execution more than a test, and again, the striking parallels to the electric chair was enough to cause his nerves to spike again.

Finished with her work, Alphys took a few steps backward to stand beside Gaster. She released a breath and Gaster seemed to tense at the sight.

He must have really looked pathetic.

As she made her way to the control panel in the back of the room, Alphys seemed to be having trouble tearing her eyes away. And as she reached the controls, her hand hesitated as it hovered over the panel.

"Good luck, Sans." She whispered.

She pushed a single button and the casing of the chamber began to close in on Sans, the lid shutting and trapping him inside. His capsule began to hum and rumble a bit as it separated from the edge of the pit and Sans was suspended above the open hole in the ground.

Even though he knew the goal of the day was not extraction, Sans was still incredibly nervous for what was going to happen. He was more than nervous . . . he was afraid. He was scared. He had never flown before, but that unsure feeling of not knowing what was going to happen next coupled by the realization that the entire capsule could fall straight through the ground to who knew where, was how he imagined a plane taking off to feel like.

He closed his eyes, trying to block it all out.

Outside in the room, a heavy feeling fell over Gaster's soul and on his shoulders.

"Look at him," He muttered, "He's terrified."

Alphys hummed, still debating whether or not to press another button. It would be too simple to just reverse the last command and bring Sans back.

Before any decision could be made, the earth around them seemed to shift and a violent shake rippled through the room. A loud rumbling soon followed and the lights flickered.

"What the hell was that!?" Alphys exclaimed, pulling herself up from where she'd stumbled to her knees.

Gaster, who was gripping to the control panel to steady himself, shot his attention to Sans. Sans was gripping the chair tightly and his eyes were squeezed shut as the chamber rocked precariously over the pit.

A second quake and the lights turned off all together.

"The CORE!?" Gaster hissed.

For the lights to have gone off like that, it had to have been . . .

Immediately following, the emergency red warning lights began to flare . . . but there was no siren. Perhaps in the quake, the system had been damaged.

He had to get to the Core. Something was happening there. And if he couldn't fix it quickly, it could be disastrous for all of Hotland!

But still, there was Sans.

"Get him out of there!" Gaster demanded, "Get him out of that thing and you two make a run for it. Gather the others and evacuate the lab immediately! I need to figure out what's going on!"

"Yes Sir!" Alphys answered, immediately moving to reverse the controls.

Sans looked up from his position when he heard the command.

"no! no-no! gaster! gaster, don't leave us! we know the core! let us help you!"

Gaster, already heading toward the door, paused for a moment, switching his attention back toward Alphys as he passed.

"Leave," He said solidly, "Both of you."

"gaster, no!" Sans tried again, "gaster! come back!"

But through Sans' protests, Gaster did not turn around again. He left toward the CORE without another word.

"gaster!" Sans cried after him, still struggling to rip through his bindings. "damn it! gaster!"

Sans growled in frustration. Of course he had to be trapped in this damned thing while Gaster ran off and did something stupid! What the hell was he thinking, going off alone like that!? He needed the help. He needed them!

"al! alphys! you gotta get me out of here! we gotta – we gotta go after him!"

"S-Sans, I don't think that's wh-what he wanted. H-he wanted you to be safe."

"screw safe!" Sans bit back, focusing again on his restraints and he continued to fight them. "he-he can't do this alone! we gotta go help him! he's better off with us than without us and you know it!"

"I know . . ." Alphys answered softly, weighing the options in her head, "I know . . . j-just . . . just hang on, Sans. I'll get you out of there."

Once the chamber was well on its way back. Alphys left the control panel to help Sans.

Sans looked back up toward Alphys with just enough time to see the looming shadow behind her.

"al!" He called, urgency and fire under his voice, "alphys, look out!"

In the moment, it took for Alphys to stall, the figure raised its hands and the bulky fire extinguisher in them. He brought the extinguisher down hard on Alphys' head. Twice. After a third, she fell to the ground, limp and unresponsive.

"no! alphys!"

The intruder, used his dark boot to push Alphys to the side of the room and out of the way. He even gave her a good kick in the ribs for good measure.

"no!"

With a dark laugh that filled the room, the intruder left Alphys to the floor and made his way to the back of the room and the control panel there.

All the while, Sans was resisting from within his chamber, nearly screaming at him. It didn't take much to figure out who their intruder was, especially when the flashing red lights illuminated his feline features.

"gaine! what the hell!? what did she ever do to you!?"

Gaine's laughter became a low chortle. "She was just in my way. My issue isn't with her, though so much as it is with you! You're the _whole_ reason I came back today. You should feel special."

"flattered." Sans answered derisively.

Gaine's laughter continued as he looked over the buttons and switches of the control panel.

"This is just too perfect!" He grinned, "It's like this entire thing was set up just for me. You know, I can't believe you actually signed up for this, Serif . . . or should I say, Sansing?"

Sans stalled at the sound. How had Gaine been able to learn his name!? There was no way he should have been able to . . .

"how do you know that name!?" He demanded, "who told you?"

"Why, you did." Gaine answered, holding up the doctor's clip board and showing the name circled near the center of the page. "You know, it's ironic . . . or maybe just extremely coincidental that your name actually is 'Sans' don't you think? Very fitting considering. Oh! I also found another nifty little bit of info when I happened upon your bedroom. Heh, funny to think you were living right here this whole time. Well, it certainly paints your relationship with Gaster in a whole new light. No wonder you two seemed so close- why you were always his favorite. The rest of us never really had a chance, did we?"

Sans frowned deeply, his glare fixed on Gaine, but he didn't acknowledge him with an answer.

Gaine began to pace as the machine's lights began to come on one by one. "You know, you really should clean up in that pig sty of yours. Couldn't make heads or tails of the place, except for maybe this." Gaine reached into his back pocket and pulled out a torn purple notebook which had been rolled up for easy carry.

Sans' eyes went wide at the sight of the notebook. "gaine! put that down! get your hands off of that!"

Gaine only laughed as he flipped through the pages, "Or what? It's not like you can attack me again from where you are."

"put it down, now!" Sans growled, calling on his magic once again, trying to use it to free his restraints and open the lid to the machine. When he tried to focus his magic, however, he found that he was unable to control it. Any amount of magic he summoned was immediately siphoned out of his being and collected within the machine. The more he tried to use it, the more he could feel the drain on his body and on his soul. That approach wasn't going to work. He needed to find a new one.

Gaine laughed to himself as he continued to flip through the pages of the notebook. He landed on one page in particular and made a bit of a grimace, "You know, I think your girlfriend might have been obsessed with you more than she actually loved you."

"gaine, please! it means _nothing_ to you! Just . . . please . . . put it down!"

Gaine hummed, finding a bit of satisfaction in getting this kind of rise from Sans. To think that this little pad of paper could get him to beg like a dog. Now, that was interesting.

"You're right." Gaine chided, "It does mean nothing to me, but I can see it means a great deal to you. You know, if I'd had this earlier, I could have used it for blackmail . . . or at least some kind of leverage over you. Something to keep you in line."

Sans weighed his options. What the hell was Gaine's problem!? Did he hate him so much that he was driven to this just to . . . what was he even trying to do? Get Sans to back off? Humiliate him?

Well, that was okay. Sans could deal with humiliation . . . but that notebook . . . that was the last thing he had of Ava . . . it was hers. Her last written words were documented in that notebook.

And that was worth more than any amount of blackmail or humiliation Gaine could possibly impose.

Sans took a steadying breath, "okay, is that what it's gonna take? okay, that's fine. you have your leverage . . . just put it down and tell me what you want. i'll . . . i'll do anything."

Gaine hummed again as he looked from under his brows at Sans and his smile turned darker.

"So eager. My, it seems I've found a real gem here. However, it's come just a bit too late. Given where I am and given where you are, it makes little difference. This thing is so old and so overused anyway that it would be nothing if I were to just . . ."

Gaine took the notebook by the edge and dangled it between the pads of his thumb and middle finger. The weight of the notebook pulled downward, creating a long tear in the cover as the rest of the contents hurried to find a place on the ground. He released it so the entire package clamored in a pile on the floor.

Sans was visibly upset as he stared between Gaine and the pile. He clenched his teeth as he fought to keep from using his magic unnecessarily. Anything he summoned would just be collected by the machine. It would be a waste.

He drew in a sharp breath. That bastard! Why would he!? What was the point!?

"gaine!" Sans fumed instead, "gaine, you asshole! let me out! let me out so i can kick your ass again!"

Gaine's laugh returned, more boisterous than before, "Oh really!? I think that's the only time you've ever actually managed to make me laugh. You really think I'm going to _let_ you out!? Why in the world would I do that when I have you right where I want you? Unable to hold me back!

"You know, from the very beginning, you've been nothing but a nuisance! A boulder in my way, eclipsing my work, blocking my every attempt to rise beyond my position. Well, not anymore! I refuse to stand by while a _human_ takes the front seat. And while Gaster _enables_ it! You're in my way, Simm. Just like Kit was, just like Gaster is now."

Sans had to take a moment to absorb everything Gaine was ranting about. None of that had been his intent. He had just been trying to make a living here in the lab and blend in with the other monsters. How had Gaine come to hate him so much? And not just him . . . he'd mentioned Kit too . . .

Sans' eyes went even wider when he'd connected the puzzle pieces.

"kit! the day she died . . . you . . . you didn't!"

"Oh, look who's finally caught on! Like I said, she was in my way and she was going to rat me out to Gaster. I had to shut her up." Gaine chuckled, "It was _way_ too easy to pin it on that experiment. Especially when he turned to attack the group who only showed up to see what happened. I'm genuinely surprised your experiment 'brother' hasn't told you all this before."

"He-he was aiming for _you_!" Sans accused, "Papyrus didn't kill anyone and he wasn't attacking us, he was trying to protect us from _you_!"

"Heh, whole lot of good that did you. Look at you now. I've got you right in the palm of my hand."

Gaine flipped a switch on the far left of the control panel and the machine, flickered to life. It shouldn't have been able to . . . hadn't the power gone out when the CORE began to malfunction . . . ?

"Personal generators." Gaine answered as if he could hear Sans' unasked question. He busied himself with the controls, turning the knobs and pushing the sliders far beyond safe parameters.

Immediately, Sans hissed in pain as a strong force pulled needily, greedily on his energy and his magic and his life. Again, he tugged harshly on his restraints in hopes of breaking them and maybe finding a way to break the lid as well. For all of his fighting, however, he could not seem to budge. Damn it! Why did Alphys have too pull so tightly on the buckles!?

He ripped and pulled against them and kicked and fought to free himself. Nothing seemed to work.

From around him, flashes of magic and energy began to fill the chamber. Sans was running out of time! He had to fight to release himself! He had to continue pulling on his restraints and . . . there was no way around it. He had to use his magic to break the binds, or to turn off the machine. Could he manifest his magic beyond the chamber, could he blast Gaine out of the way? Destroy the machine? Free himself? Warn Gaster?

He had to . . .

. . . He had to . . .

But as much as he struggled, as much as he fought, nothing he did made any difference. He was still stuck within the confines of his chamber as more colored magic surrounded him, calling out to his magic in turn, latching on to him and entering his body to grab onto it.

There was no way he could stop it.

"Once you're out of the way," Gaine mused as he watched Sans struggle inside the machine, "there will be no one to stop me from going after Gaster himself. He's so distracted with the CORE right now, it'll be no problem, and hey, maybe even a little expected, if he were to have a little "accident" while he was in there. No one would even bat an eye."

Again, Sans was faced with realization. The power outage . . . Gaine said he'd set up personal generators, hadn't he?

The disturbance in the CORE . . . The evacuation! Gaine had planned it all!

Just to get Gaster isolated.

"NO!" Sans cried, "Not Gaster! I won't let you!"

"I'd love to see you try to stop me without a soul! Tell Ava and Kit I said hello when you see them in Hell!"

Gaine sneered as he flipped a final switch and the machine began to rumble. The extraction process had begun.

At the motion, a sharp jolt ran directly through Sans and a shudder sent his body into violent convulsions. His every bone, his every nerve, his entire body seized as magic flooded him, searching for more, gripping at him and tearing him apart from the inside out.

Through it all, Sans fought off his screams. It hurt. It all hurt so badly. It was too much! He was being boiled from the inside and no matter what he did, he couldn't fight it off. Every bit of him wanted to cry out.

But he couldn't give Gaine that satisfaction.

His soul felt as if it were on fire as the magic surrounded it and began to crush it with the sheer power. His body continued to seize, far beyond his control as his soul was ripped apart by the foreign magic tearing through his body. It gripped at him and held tightly as it forced its way through him.

In response, his own magic, his own Determination, his own will to live kicked into high gear. He knew even at a subconscious level, that he had to fight back. He had to stay alive. And his magic was somehow going to help him do that.

Blue magic began to shine more and more brightly from within the chamber, fighting back against the intrusive magic. He was still fighting with everything he had. Everything he could give, he was going to live! He was going to get out of here and warn Gaster, protect the others, find Papyrus!

But first he had to make it out of here. Perhaps if he could overload the machine with magic . . .

His magic began to glow white. Maybe he could blast his way out.

Gaine let out a low sound and a long breath from outside of the machine. Through all the whirring and clashes with the magic, he couldn't be heard . . . but it looked as if Serif was beginning to fight back against the machine. Damn that human Determination. He couldn't afford to let Serif win. He couldn't afford to take any chances.

Gaine pushed the sliders to their maximum levels, turned the knobs until they wouldn't turn anymore. He lit the entire control panel, making sure there was no more the machine could do. Maximum power. Extraction level 13.

A secondary jolt ran through the machine and it seemed as if it may buckle as the chamber and the room flooded with magic. Immediately, the "eyes" of the machine began to glow ferociously and a blood-curdling scream filled the room, easily cutting through all other sound. It was almost physically painful to listen to. . . almost.

The sound tore painfully from the back of Sans' throat and filled the air around him as every bit of his essence was ripped from his body. He was unaware of the sound he was making or the brilliant light that was being produced all as a result of his suffering. He didn't feel the magic being drained through his hands and his mouth or the bit of magic that tried to escape through his eyes.

He was unaware of the blood . . . ? blood . . . as it ran from his right eye and down the flesh of his cheek. He was unaware of the nails being bent backward and torn as he gripped instinctively to the handles of his chair. He was unaware of the cuts being made in his wrists and the bruises of his ankles as he ripped at the restraints tying him down.

All he knew was fire.

With a final flash of blinding light, the room went silent once again. There was no whir of the machine, there were no screams, there was no laughter and no jeering. Only silence.

Gaine only dared to look when he was sure the light had receded as well. When the light died down, Gaine looked to the broken machine and the shattered chamber where the Skeleton had been seated before. When he looked now, however, there was a human . . . the body of a dead human, left motionless inside the chamber. Above, in the machine's left eye, the human's deep blue soul glowed and pulsated like a beating heart.

* * *

In the middle of his attack, Papyrus stalled, gripping tightly at his chest as he dropped his femur to the ground where it immediately disappeared in glittering fractals. Something happened. Something very bad happened. And though Papyrus didn't know what could have caused something so dark and something so suffocating to take hold of his chest so suddenly, he knew it had to do with Sans.

Sans was in danger! That was what _his_ soul was feeling, wasn't it?

Papyrus fought with his will to remain standing as he took a few steps backward and avoided being hit by his sparring partner's attack. He had to go . . . he had to leave immediately. He had to get back to Sans.

Without a word to anyone, Papyrus turned away from his match and took off at full speed back toward the lab.

He had to get to Sans immediately!


	20. The CORE of the Matter

**AN: Hey everyone! Welcome back! Well, here we are at Chapter 17! Isn't that exciting!? I can't believe this story is over a year old already! Again, I wanna say thank you to you all for sticking with me! All of you who have been around since the beginning and all of you who just found us! Thank you ALL! =^w^=**

 **I won't make this long! This chapter is FILLED TO THE BRIM! And I don't wanna keep you from that! So . . . actually, I think I'll leave it here . . .**

 **Enjoy! And I'll see you at the end!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 17**_

 _ **The CORE of the Matter**_

Something just beyond the lids of her eyes pulsated in an oscillating pattern. Red. Blue. Red. Blue. Red and blue again. It even lined up with the throbbing pain threatening to split her head in half.

Alphys groaned and frowned as she felt herself waking up to the pain in her head and in her side. What the heck happened? How did she end up on the floor with these sharp pains? When did it all happen? Why did she feel like she missed something?

There was a faint beeping sound now too. Long, intermittent, shrill. It pierced her ears and felt like it was trying to penetrate her head.

That . . . wasn't a good sound. Not at all. And it was coming from the control panel of the machine! It meant that the machine was searching for Determination and it couldn't find any. It meant that whatever had been the subject, the source of the Determination, had run dry and a new source would have to be found. And soon the panic began to set in as well. She definitely missed something! Something happened. Something big. Something bad . . .

Alphys pulled herself to her feet and squinted toward where the machine was beeping. But somewhere, during whatever it was that happened, she'd lost her glasses. She would have to piece together what happened on her own. She tallied the information she could gather just on her initial observations.

The red warning lights were flashing on and off, leaving the room in darkness for a three second cycle before coming back with a dim glow. However, during those dark periods, there was an even dimmer secondary glow. The blue glow . . . and it was coming from the machine. There was a glowing and pulsating something in the machine's eye. Was that magic . . . ? A soul?

Though she could see the glowing and hear the beeping, the implications went unrealized for too long.

. . .

Wait!

That was _Sans'_ soul in the eye, wasn't it!?

WHO TURNED ON THE MACHINE!?

Scrambling to her feet, Alphys rushed to the controls and saw they were all turned to the highest possible setting.

. . . Oh no . . .

"SANS!"

Immediately, Alphys lowered the settings for all of the controls and turned off the machine. The last thing she did was release the latch that kept Sans encased within.

When she was sure that the capsule was on its way back to the docking point, Alphys rushed toward the machine.

"Sans!? Sans! Say something!"

When she lifted the front panel of the capsule, the first thing that she noticed was that Sans' bones seemed to be charred. They looked so much different than before. It took squinting through the blur to figure out what was really going on. It wasn't that Sans' bones were charred . . . it was that Sans no longer had his skeletal features at all.

When she lifted his face mask, she saw that Sans' signature smile was gone. His . . . everything was gone. Sans was gone . . . and where he had been seated before, there was now a human . . . a human wearing the same clothing Sans had been. The human had dark hair and tanned skin and he was expressionless . . . lifeless . . .

And his soul . . . his soul had been harvested. It floated right there in the machine's left eye. The source of the blue glow.

How did this happen!? Who could have done this!?

. . . She had to tell Gaster!

But he was out in the CORE tending to whatever the disturbance was out there.

But still . . . he had to know . . . She had to tell him . . .

"I-I gotta . . . G-G-Gaster! GASTER!"

It almost escaped her mind! Recently, Gaster started carrying a cell for emergencies exactly like this! She could still contact him!

Alphys rushed to the wall phone, picking it up and dialing the correct sequence of numbers.

It rang twice before there was an answer. On the other line, there was a loud screeching and a frantic typing.

* * *

There seemed to be no reasoning behind what was going on. There was no explanation. It was as if the CORE just suddenly decided to give up on them! Every so often there was a violent shake and Gaster would be nearly knocked to his knees again.

Against his instruction, Baelin, Maltez, and Ruddard stayed in the CORE with him, attempting to gather whatever information they had in order to assist Gaster in fixing whatever was wrong inside the CORE.

But of course no one could find anything wrong.

Still, the quaking told them otherwise.

There was one episode that was so bad that the walls began to warp and the integrity of the structure was compromised! A long split in the wall, like a jagged smile tore its way through the only protection keeping them safe from the blistering heat of the surrounding areas. Already, the searing winds were beginning to flood the room and even though attempts had been made to seal the fracture, it seemed as nothing was able to hold it at bay. The whistling screech of the winds played on like a constant alarm to the severity of the situation.

Meanwhile, the others had retreated to the far back wall of the chamber near the exit. Maltez and Ruddard were busy trying to recalibrate the parameters of the thermal intake valves. It seemed as if several of them had suddenly gone offline and they needed to find the reason behind it.

Baelin was near Dr. Gaster, keeping a close eye on the monitor against the wall and reporting any fluctuations. If another chamber was compromised, or if there were any changes to the intake valves, she would be the first to know.

Gaster was frantically typing away, trying to find another temporary algorithm that would keep the CORE stable until he and his team could locate and fix any bugs in the system. Something that would lessen the pressure in the rooms that had been affected. Perhaps if he could divert the flow of energy away from the damaged rooms, they would be able to—

The phone in his lab coat rang.

"No," He groaned to himself, "Now is _not_ the right time!"

It rang again.

Though . . . the only people who had this number were his staff and the king and they all knew to ONLY contact him on that phone in case of an emergency . . .

An emergency like the one with which he was currently dealing . . .

Just before it could ring again, Gaster grabbed the phone from his pocket and flipped it open. He summoned a single floating hand to hold the phone for him so he could continue to type as he spoke.

"Yes, what is it!? Can it wait?"

"D-Doctor! Doctor G-Gaster!" Alphys' disjointed cry rang through. Her tone was too panicked to be the "all-clear" from the lab he'd been hoping for.

"Alphys! What's wrong?"

"Doctor . . . it-it's Sans!"

And just like that, everything seemed to come to a screeching halt. All other sound stilled. The squealing from the crack in the wall muted and the chatter from the assistants quieted.

"What happened?" Gaster demanded.

"I-I-I don't know, sir! Something went wrong when we were trying to escape. The-the-the-th-the machine . . ."

"What happened to Sans?" Gaster asked sternly, more directly.

To his dismay, Alphys hesitated before giving her answer. "Sir . . . Sans . . . S-S-Sans is-is dead."

Something inside of Gaster stilled instantly. Not only did the sounds in the room mute, but all light all heat, everything seemed to just . . . stop existing. It was as if someone had come in and erased everything and everyone around him, leaving him in an empty blackness.

It couldn't be true. Surely he'd misheard. Sans _couldn't_ be . . .

They were supposed to escape! They were supposed to evacuate!

"Sir . . . ?" Alphys questioned.

"I'm on my way."

Gaster ended the call abruptly and pocketed his phone once again. Sans needed him. But he couldn't leave the issue with the CORE either. And there was no way to do both at once . . . he had to make a choice.

As the sounds slowly came back to him, he found his solution with the others.

"There is another emergency which requires my immediate attention. You three can hold things down here until I get back, right?"

His decision would hinge on their response.

"Yes, Sir." The three assistants answered simultaneously.

"Good." Gaster nodded, "Maltez! Take over here at the control panel. See if you can divert the excess energy from all affected rooms. Baelin, keep him informed of _any_ changes! If it becomes too much, if it looks like things may get too severe, you all need to get yourselves _out_! Understood? We can always rebuild and repair damaged rooms, but you cannot be so easily replaced. I cannot afford to lose all of you too."

"Yes, Sir!" They answered again, hesitating slightly.

"Sir . . ." Baelin asked tentatively, "What happened to Sans?"

Gaster didn't have it in him to tell them. He still couldn't quite come to grips with it himself. He backed away toward the exit. "I will return shortly."

With that, Gaster rushed off, leaving his remaining assistants to at least maintain until he could get back.

He had to get back to the lab. He had to get back to Sans . . .

He continued at a full sprint, everything else falling away. Though he could feel the heat of the CORE, and though he could hear the chaos of the room he just left, he had to keep going forward. The others could handle it for a short while. He had to get to the bottom of whatever it was that happened back in the machine room.

He was nearly back when he saw a figure streaking past like a bolt. He was just as focused on getting to the lab as Gaster was.

"Papyrus!" Gaster called, "Papyrus, wait!"

Papyrus turned his attention to the doctor, but did not stop.

"I'm sorry, doctor, but I can't! It's an emergency!"

"I am well aware! I know where he is! Come with me!"

For that, Papyrus stalled for a second, only to change his course to where Gaster was holding out his hand for him. The moment they reached each other, Gaster focused intently on the path to the basement where Alphys and Sans were waiting for them. He'd memorized every turn, every door and every hallway. He knew them well enough to be able to do what he had in mind.

In a blink, Gaster was able to transport himself as well as Papyrus through every one of those hallways, around every turn and through every door in an instant.

Right away, the two of them noticed how tense the air was in the room. The lights were nonfunctional, casting the room into almost complete darkness. But on top of that, there was a heaviness that felt almost tangible and just being in the vicinity seemed to weigh on them from the moment they appeared in the threshold.

"Where is he?" Papyrus demanded, not even bothered at all by the fact that he'd just been _teleported_ several rooms away from where they'd been. No, there was only one thing on his mind. "Where is my brother!?"

"P-Papyrus!" Alphys stammered, "H-how did . . . who told you to come?"

"No one! I just . . ." Papyrus gripped at the fabric of his chest.

"Of course . . ." She mused for a second, "Your s-souls were connected. The moment that s-something happened, you m-must have felt it."

"I guess, so." Papyrus answered with a rushed and impatient tone, "What happened to him? Where is Sans?"

"Oh, Papyrus . . . I'm- I'm so sorry."

Alphys turned away, leading Gaster and Papyrus to the gurney on which she'd managed to move Sans' body. The human had been taken from the machine and covered with a sheet.

The three stood on the sides of the gurney with Alphys and Papyrus on one side and Gaster on the other. Alphys, grabbed at the end of the sheet with a shaky hand. The hesitation gave both Papyrus and Gaster time to prepare for what could possibly be under it.

"N-now," Alphys warned, "He does . . . um . . . l-look different."

Alphys removed the sheet. As she did, there was a sharp inhalation as Gaster and Papyrus took in the sight.

Alphys did say that he looked different now . . . but Papyrus hadn't been expecting _this._ The figure on the table did look a bit like a Skeleton, it was true. It had arms and legs like a Skeleton, a head . . . with _hair_ . . . It had fingers at the ends of its hands. It was even wearing Sans' clothes, but it was covered in some other strange exterior plush that wasn't fur like the dogs in the Guard had or scales like Undyne or Alphys had. It made the figure look somewhat squishy and strange. There were cuts and bruises on its arms and wrists, and red stuff that had been leaking from those cuts. The same red stuff was leaking from the figure's eye and stained its face.

"W-what happened?" Papyrus stammered, "This isn't Sans."

"He has reverted." Gaster answered in a fabricated calm, trying and failing to keep his words and his composure even. "It can only mean that the curse which was placed over him so many years ago has finally been lifted . . . most likely at the event of his death. This is no longer the Sans we know. Alphys, Papyrus. Meet Simm Sansing."

Alphys, wiping fresh tears from under her recovered glasses, tried the name out. "Simm . . ." She said softly as she looked over her friend, "His name was Simm? How come he never told us?"

"He was a victim of an extremely powerful curse." Gaster explained, "One that was easily as strong as the barrier that seals all monsters underground. He was unable to tell anyone who he really was. Not only that, but he was . . . understandably afraid of what would happen to him if he did. So, he adopted the name 'Comic Sans Serif' for as long as he was here."

"I-I wish I'd known . . ." Alphys sighed, "He was always so kind to me and dedicated to his work and to helping us . . . I wish I could have been helping him too . . . I-I don't know what I c-could have done, but . . ."

As Alphys and Dr. Gaster continued to talk about Sans in the past tense, Papyrus stared downward at the body in utter disbelief. There was no way . . . somehow the doctor and Alphys must have been lying. They must have had the real Sans hiding somewhere and this . . . this Simm was just someone they brought in to throw him off . . . But why would they do something like that . . . what reason would they have for trying to trick him like this?

No! There had to be another reason!

"But . . . Sans _can't_ be dead!" He protested, bogarting his way into the conversation, "He only just woke up! He was supposed to be taking things slowly today so he could get stronger! He was getting better!"

"The more pressing question is, _how_ did this happen?" Gaster questioned. His tone now took on a darker growl and though his words continued to be even, the fury behind them was steadily making its way to the surface. "Alphys. You two were _supposed_ to be evacuating!"

"Y-yes." Alphys acknowledged, "W-we-we were. And I was taking Sans out of the machine when . . . when . . . w-well, sir, I d-don't know what happened exactly. I was knocked out." Alphys tenderly touched the spot in the back of her head where she was struck. "Wh-when I woke up . . . The machine was on f-f-full power and Sans . . . Sans was . . ."

Again, Gaster let out a deep breath, almost visibly fighting something or another within his own thoughts. His fists clenched and unclenched several times.

 _'No . . . Alphys is not to blame here._

 _I mustn't take it out on her . . ._

 _Not on Alphys._

 _No. She is a victim here, just like Sans . . ._

 _Yes, I did tell her to take Sans and flee, but . . ._

 _No . . . that does not make her liable for his death . . ._

 _Yes . . . yes, of course. I_ am _upset, but . . ._

 _No, there has to be another explanation.'_

"But how do we _fix_ him!?" Papyrus demanded, breaking through the darkening thoughts and successfully snapping Gaster back to the present.

"I-I'm sorry, 'f-fix him'?" Alphys asked, the outlandish request taking her by surprise, "Papyrus . . . S-Sans is dead. You c-can't _fix_ death."

"Yes you can!" Papyrus insisted, "I've seen it before! Dr. Gaster! You've done it before! I wouldn't _be_ here if you couldn't! So why can't you help him too? Please, Doctor! _You_ _have to fix Sans!_ "

Again, Alphys hesitated, taking in what Papyrus was saying. What did he mean he wouldn't be here if Gaster couldn't fix death . . . ? Just what _was_ Papyrus?

"D-Doctor . . . ?" Alphys said quietly fidgeting with the front of her lab coat, "Is that- is that true?"

Gaster frowned, letting out a deep breath. He was never aware that Papyrus knew about that part of the experiment. If he'd known before . . . that Papyrus actually knew where he'd come from and how he had been created . . . This whole time . . . was it possible that he had retained knowledge of his past life . . . ? Of Corbel!?

 _ **'Don't be so ridiculous! Haven't we already been through this? We concluded that this creature was not our son.'**_

 _'My son'_

 _ **'Your son. Reverting to all of this wishful thinking will get you nothing! Besides, even if by some miracle, Papyrus did retain Corbel's memories, don't forget the terrible things you did to him since his revival. All the things you said. All the times you tried to have him destroyed. Do you think Corbel would ever forgive you for that?"**_

 _'. . . My son . . .'_

 _ **'And don't forget all the terrible things**_ **he** _ **did. Or was that fox girl nothing to you but a hired hand? If your son was in there, then he had a hand in her murder. That makes your dear little boy a killer. Let that sink in a bit. But you already have, haven't you? Like I said, we've been through this before. You already know all this.'**_

 _'No . . . no, you're right. He . . . is not my . . .'_

"D-Doctor Gaster? Are y-you okay?"

"I'm fine." Gaster answered, regaining his composure, "And . . . it's true . . . but Papyrus, that was under completely different circumstances. You were created using the dust of a dead monster . . . but Sans . . . Was never a monster to begin with. He was human. And when a human dies, they don't turn into dust like a monster would. Their souls leave their bodies and you are left with . . ." Gaster had to take another steadying breath, ". . . With what's known as a corpse. The empty shell of the human. That's all he is now . . . a corpse . . . I'm sorry, Papyrus, but there is nothing we can do for him now."

Papyrus froze in his thoughts and in his actions. Nothing they could do . . . ? That just couldn't be true. Sans was so close to them. Apparently, he was hiding in the skin of this "Simm" person, but he was still there- right in front of them! Why was it that neither Dr. Gaster nor Miss Alphys could see it!?

He was just missing his soul, right? He needed his soul to become Sans again . . . right? If he had it . . . then they could bring him back, right?

And his soul . . . was in the container! It was right there! Next to Miss Alphys! On that metal table! It was still pulsating a soft blue glow!

Yet, Dr. Gaster and Alphys continued to talk as if they couldn't see it! They kept talking about how they were going to "deliver 'the human's' soul to the king" and how "It's what he would have wanted".

But not Papyrus! He saw a solution! All he needed was to give Sans back his soul and . . . and he'd have his brother back!

While both the doctor and Alphys were distracted with their depressing talk, Papyrus reached out for the soul container. He'd seen Gaster, Sans, and Alphys use it on several separate occasions and knew the sequence of how to open it with very little difficulty.

Working swiftly, Papyrus unlocked the bottom of the container, twisting it to detach it, and lifted the glass casing from around the soul. It hovered a few centimeters over the base.

Reaching out with a gloved hand Papyrus, took possession of the soul and dropped the base where it clattered on the ground. The blue soul hovered now just above his glove radiating its soft glow.

He just needed to give it back.

. . . For Sans . . .

At the sound of the disturbance from the container base, Gaster's attention shifted once again. He focused with only enough time to see Papyrus leaning slightly over the body of the human, the soul hovering a few inches above the chest.

"Papyrus!? Papyrus, step away from him!"

"Please, brother . . . take your soul and come back."

"Papyrus, stop that!"

Ignoring the doctor, Papyrus laid a hand atop the soul and pushed downward over the chest. Immediately, he could feel the resistance beneath his efforts. Almost like he was trying to stuff something into a container that was already full. Soon, it felt as if the soul was quaking in his grip and it trembled in uncertainty.

"Come on, Sans!" He pleaded in a whisper as burning tears began to form in the corners of his eyes and fall down his face, "Please . . . Please!"

There were grips at the shoulders of his shirt as Gaster's floating hands grabbed at him and attempted to pull him away as the doctor held the gurney still. But Papyrus resisted, planting himself firmly on the ground while physically grasping onto the gurney with one hand and attempting to force the soul with the other. He was a lot stronger than he looked. Even with the doctor working against him, Papyrus was able to stand his ground.

It happened quickly.

The trembling soul seemed to heat up the closer it got to the body. Papyrus could feel the warmth even through his gloves. There was a definite reaction there and even though, it was unclear as to why it was happening, Papyrus knew it meant progress.

Just a little further . . .

Not only was there the warmth radiating from the soul, but now there was a brighter, more intense light that came along with it. The soul seemed to glow more the nearer to the body it got. It soon became so bright that the three needed to squint, cover their eyes or look away completely in order not to be blinded by it.

The light seemed to reach out to the body as well, surrounding it in a brilliant white, starting from the chest and spreading out to all of the other extremities. Arms, hands, fingers, legs, feet, and toes were all engulfed in light as the soul was submerged into the chest.

Papyrus could feel it when Gaster's grip loosened as he became more invested in what was happening on the gurney. He knew the doctor would be upset. Not only had the soul been lost, but now something new and completely foreign was happening to the human's body. No one knew what was coming and no one could say how to prepare or even how to react.

"Papyrus," The doctor groaned, "what have you done?"

Nothing like this had ever been _successfully_ accomplished before and Gaster had never actually seen anything of the like . . . attempting to return a human's soul to its host? The scientist in Gaster could not look away.

Papyrus continued to stare. Okay, so the body was glowing. It still wasn't moving. It still wasn't responding. It still wasn't Sans!

He reached out, fitting an arm beneath the body while a second cradled the head, his gloves gripping tightly at the human's hair as he pressed the body closer to his chest.

"Please, Sans." Papyrus begged, "You are so close. Please come back! We still need you. I still need you. I love you, brother. Just please wake up!"

Papyrus held tightly as the warmth seemed to enter him as well. It surrounded him in light and held him in return, like an embrace.

Inside his chest, Papyrus' soul began to pulsate in time with the human's.

"That's right! This soul was made from yours! It still part of you! I don't know if I can give it back . . . but if I could, I would give it back at once if it meant that you would live! If it meant I could have Sans back!"

The pulsating became stronger as the human soul seemed to latch onto Papyrus' and used it to jumpstart itself into working properly again. To Papyrus, this was what it took to help . . . even if it did sting . . . even if it did grip to the point that it was painful. It continued until the souls both seized at once, filling the entire room in that bright white light.

It was like an explosion with Papyrus and the human at its center. A massive wave of energy pushed its way through the room, toppling anyone and anything within range, including Gaster and Alphys. In the center of it all was what seemed to be a spiraling tower of wind, energy, magic, and glowing particles of dust.

As Papyrus held firm, he kept thinking back to everything he could remember about his brother. About the one who welcomed him even when everyone else pushed him away. The one who taught him and who looked after him. His smiling face, his terrible sense of humor, his passion and thirst for solving the unsolved as well as his compassion for his friends. _That_ was his brother. _That_ was Sans.

Even as he thought it, he could feel the shift in his arms. The energy and dust were stemming from there. The vortex of energy was coming from him . . . from Simm . . . as his appearance gave way.

His hair, his skin, his entire outer form . . . all of it disappeared, instantly turning into specks of swirling magic and light as it lifted from the body, leaving behind the familiar bones and skeletal features of the monster Papyrus remembered.

Just as suddenly as it began, the forceful shifting winds suddenly ceased with a final pulse of energy, leaving Papyrus huddled over another Skeleton.

Fighting to catch his breath, Papyrus let the other down and held tightly onto the gurney instead. The grip from over his soul was released and the pain subsided as the light from around them died down. When Papyrus dared to open his eyes again, he was both shocked and elated to see the familiar face of his brother laying unconscious beneath him.

The lingering soft glow seemed to be contained now in a small localized area just within his ribcage and hidden beneath his shirt. It was the soft white glow of a new soul.

Finally, after a few more eternal seconds, a sharp intake of air alerted the others to the change and the one on the gurney opened his eyes wide. Instinctively, he coughed, turning his head to the side as he fought to catch his breath as well.

Sans!

Sans was back!

"Congratulations, Papyrus." Gaster said slowly and quietly as he took a step forward to observe the result of what had just transpired, "You've created a monster."

* * *

Fire!

Everything was on fire!

Even the lights dancing when he opened his eyes! The air when he drew in a breath! All of it! It was on fire! He had to get out! He had to move!

He turned to the side to rid his lungs of the burning and it came out as series of coughs. Every breath he drew afterward sent more fire rushing in.

And now there was a low buzzing sound too! It sounded off from somewhere off to his right.

Was that a voice?

No time for that! He had to get out! He scrambled on unstable limbs, trying to use them to pull himself up.

Why couldn't he do it!? Why was he so weak!? Why couldn't he move the way he wanted to!? Why was he having so much trouble focusing?

Where was he? Why was it so dark?

What happened to all the fire? He still felt so hot!

Suddenly, something trapped him and prevented him from moving. His arms were pinned to his sides and his head was pulled against something.

Something soft . . . and it was warm too . . .

Another buzzing . . . and this one was definitely a voice.

"Shh . . . Shh, it's okay brother." It said, "You're okay now."

Wait a minute . . . he knew that voice.

But when he tried to speak, nothing would come out. His voice . . . his voice wasn't working!

"pap-papyrus . . .?" He tried.

The grip became tighter and the form around him shook slightly.

"Hello, Sans! Welcome back!"

"Papyrus, h-how about you let him breathe!" Another nervous voice jumped in, "It s-sounds like he m-might be having a hard time of it."

The form hesitated, but now that he was sure the other was at least slightly more calm than before, he reluctantly obliged.

When Sans was left alone, he was immediately looking for something to hold onto. A bar or a ledge or something. He was starting to get some of his vision back in one of his eyes at least and not everything was on fire anymore . . . just his . . . his . . .

He looked out at his hands as they reached for the sides of his gurney and he froze at what he saw.

Bones . . .

Like, actual bones. He could no longer see the lines of his palms or his fingernails. It was as if he were back in class and being asked to label a skeleton for a lab assignment . . . and he could do it too. He could count the carpals in his wrists and watch at the joints of his knuckles where his phalanges met the metacarpals where his palms used to be. So strange . . .

He flexed his fingers. How . . . how did this happen? Where did . . . the rest of him go? He looked down toward the end of the bed and saw his own tibiae and fibulae of his legs and the patellae of his knees. He still had his socks and Converses on. That was weird to see.

He felt his own chest . . . and his individual ribs and his sternum and his clavicle.

He still wasn't completely convinced he knew what was going on. He was . . . awake . . . or he felt awake anyway. It was either that or this was the most vivid dream he'd ever had.

"S-Sans . . . a-are you alright?" That voice was Alphys, wasn't it? So she and Papyrus were both here, "I-I mean, I understand if maybe you n-need a minute . . . you-you've been through a lot."

Sans raised a hand to his skull. Trying to filter through the sounds to get the words and the meanings behind them. Everything was so loud and so muddled . . .

". . . what . . . happened . . . ?" He tried again through a voiceless scratch.

"We were hoping you could tell us." It was that low buzz again . . . Gaster.

"gaster!" And Sans fell to coughing again as he became too excited and tried to use too much of his voice at once.

"Perhaps you should try to relax and rest your voice while you re-adjust."

Sans shook his head fervently as he gripped the side of the gurney with one hand and raised the other into the air like a child at school. ". . . can't" he strained, ". . . answers."

"Answers?" Papyrus asked, "Does that mean you _need_ answers or you _have_ answers?"

Sans groaned. Why was this so difficult?

Alphys stepped forward now, still not completely over her shock. Her friend had been killed. She'd retrieved the body herself! And now, miraculously, he'd been brought back to life. It was all a bit much to take in so quickly.

"S-Sans." She stammered, "D-do you remember what happened here?"

Sans nodded urgently.

Gaster narrowed his eyes. Okay, another game of "yes and no" it was. Sans still couldn't speak more than one word at a time. He would have to word his questions carefully.

"Now, I know it's a lot for so soon after being brought back, but, this is important, Sans. I will be asking more questions of you, I'm afraid. Answer them to the best of your ability. It will have to be quick as we still have the matter of the CORE to deal with."

. . . That's right. There was the CORE to worry about too. Wait . . . didn't he say that the CORE was just a distraction?

He had to get this done quickly. Gaster needed to know.

Sans nodded his agreement, even twirling his finger as a signal for Gaster to hurry.

"Alright then. Did you see what happened in here."

Sans nodded.

"Did something happen to Alphys during this?"

Sans nodded again. " . . . attacked." He answered, reaching up to touch the back of his skull.

Alphys mirrored the movements. Someone had attacked her? And left her on the ground? Vaguely, she wondered what else the assailant could have done.

"What about the machine? Was it an accident? A malfunction?"

Sans shook his head.

Gaster's face fell to a deep scowl. So, someone had done this deliberately. Someone had intentionally turned the machine up to full power in order to eliminate Sans.

Again, the fury began to rise inside of Gaster.

"Who?" Gaster demanded, the ice clearly showing through. He didn't need to say more than that.

". . . gaine . . ."

"Gaine!" Both Gaster and Papyrus repeated, the anger in Gaster rising and the focus in Papyrus following suit.

"Do you know where he went?" The tone in Gaster's voice lowering now to just above a rumble.

Sans thought over how best to answer the question. He decided quickly. Screw his voice. He'd get it back eventually.

He pointed toward Gaster. "to find you." Sans tried again, his voice still refusing to leave as anything more than a painful rasp, "core is a diversion. sabotage. a trap. he attacked me so i couldn't stop him."

"I-I can't believe that G-Gaine would go as far as all of this, though. It s-seems like a lot of t-trouble."

Sans silenced, nodding slowly at Alphys' words. All throughout Gaine's attack, he thought for sure he was a goner . . . he could barely believe it himself, how was he even able to talk to the others? How was he even alive . . . ? _Was_ he even alive? Was all of this some terrible iteration of the afterlife? A world where he'd been able to save Gaster and the others?

The fire in his throat definitely made him think that maybe he was still alive.

"He's done it before." Papyrus answered in a very uncharacteristic mutter. The sound pulled Sans from his thoughts and made him focus on Papyrus.

That's right!

"Excuse me?" Gaster questioned.

"kit." Sans answered with a scowl, "gaine was the one who killed her . . . not papyrus. gaine confessed . . . he killed kit because she was going to report him to you. then he blamed it on papyrus."

"But we _saw_ Papyrus with the dust."

"he just happened to be in the room at the time. back then, we didn't think paps was sentient. gaine wouldn't have even thought twice about him being able to defend himself from being accused."

"And afterward when the rest of us arrived at the scene. You attacked us, Papyrus. How do you explain yourself against that?"

"I never attacked you, doctor." Papyrus explained. "My attack was meant for Gaine. He was dangerous and he was near more people he could hurt. He was near you and Sans."

"And why is it that this is the first we're hearing about it!?" Gaster argued, "If you had this information, why did you never come forward with it!? Why did it take _this_ for you to say anything!?"

"I-I . . ." Papyrus stammered, taking a step backward and wringing his hands in front of him in a nervous habit, "I couldn't at first. I was decommissioned . . . and when I woke up . . . you were going to kill me. I was afraid. You hated me _so_ much . . . and I couldn't talk to Sans at the time. He didn't speak wingdings. And later . . . well . . . you wouldn't have believed me. Gaine didn't hurt anyone else after that and I had no proof."

". . . and then ava . . ." Sans said darkly.

"I-I tried to stop him, brother. I tried to give you time to save her. She was important to you . . . And then . . . Gaine was suspended. I didn't think that he would . . ."

"come back and do something like this . . . ? try to take me out too? yeah. it would've been nice to know beforehand, then we could have known what to watch out for."

"I'm sorry . . ." Papyrus moaned, choking back tears, he raised his gloves to his face to cover the guilt and the shame from his expression. "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

"it's . . . it's alright, bro . . ." Sans sighed in response to Papyrus. Once again, he shifted to sit up completely. If he could lower the handle, he could sit off the edge of the gurney. He was starting to feel a bit more like himself. He wasn't nearly as dizzy and he didn't feel like he was burning . . . though there was definitely something off about his right eye. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to focus through that eye. Like Papyrus, he brought up a hand and rubbed the heel of his . . . well, he didn't have palms anymore . . . to his eye, trying to get it to work. "not much we can do about it now except figure out what we're gonna do next. gaine is still out there and he's heading for the core looking for gaster. he's probably gunnin' for you too now, bro. now that he knows that you're around to tell his tale. what we have to do is stop him before he has the chance to hurt anyone else."

"I'm sorry, 'we'?" Gaster stepped in. For someone who had just come back from death and couldn't even find his voice, Sans sure did a lot of talking and he sure seemed to be in a hurry to meet his killer. "Sans, no. I'll be the one to deal with Gaine. He is my responsibility after all. And so are you. Look, do you even realize what just happened here?"

"gaine got the upper hand on me last time. i was stuck in the machine, but this time—"

"Gaine didn't just get the upper hand on you, Sans!" Gaster snapped, " He _killed_ you! You _died_. And if it weren't for Papyrus, you would still be dead!"

"papyrus . . . ?" Sans repeated in a quiet moment, realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. So Gaine actually had gone through with it . . . he _had_ been dead, "but then . . . how did . . ."

"If Papyrus hadn't forced your soul back into you, if he hadn't been around, you would be in a body bag right now on your way to the capital! You're lucky! I almost stopped him!"

Sans turned his attention back to Papyrus who was still trying hard not to let himself cry and Alphys who was at his side attempting to comfort him and assure him that everything was okay.

Again, Sans hesitated and he gripped at his shirt over his chest. Gaster said that Papyrus had returned his soul to him in order to revive him. How was that even . . . How had he managed to pull that off?

Sans focused his energy, any and all energy he could muster, to call forth his soul and through all of his effort, he was able to produce a light in his hand. A floating white light in the shape of an upside-down heart.

Sans' eyes went wide at the sight . . . "w-what-what is . . . how did . . . what am i?"

"The short answer is," Gaster explained, "You are no longer human. That soul is proof that you are a fully fledged monster now. Like the rest of us. As for what kind of monster, that has yet to be seen."

"Well, he's a Skeleton, isn't he?" Papyrus inquired, "Look at him."

"I'm afraid that's not enough, Papyrus. You see, Sans is something completely unlike a typical Skeleton, like you or I, simply because he was human first."

Sans pondered, calling his new soul back into him. Such an odd thought. He didn't feel any differently. It was like he'd just woken up from a really long dream, but still . . . he couldn't quite get over the fact that he'd really been killed and brought back to life and yet he still felt completely normal. Better even.

"so, i'm kinda like a zombie then?" He asked with a bit of a smirk.

"A zombie . . . ?" Gaster questioned raising a brow.

This time, it was Alphys who raised her hand, "U-um, in-in human mythos they are known as the r-reanimated or the undead. They- they travel the post-apocalyptic surface world devouring s-surviving humans. It really is quite fascinating, if a b-bit r-repulsive. It-it's a monster made up by humans."

"No . . ." Gaster reflected, "Not made up. Just mislabeled . . ."

Gaster sighed then, shaking his head as he continued in a slightly faster-paced mumble "That is, except for the cannibalistic devouring of human flesh. Where does this _obsession_ of being eaten come from, I wonder? . . . that aside. Sans, if the base of these 'zombies' is truly a reanimated human . . . then you are an extremely rare monster indeed, even more rare than a true Skeleton. You would be what's known to the monster world as a Revenant."

Sans, thought it over, nodding slowly, "i've heard of that before. and i assume there are tests and whatnot that we could run to prove this one way or the other?"

"There are. But they will have to wait."

"eh, don't bother. 'sans the revenant' just doesn't have the same ring, if you know what i mean. i kinda like the other one better. so for now, 'sans the skeleton' is back!"

Gaster hummed, slowly shaking his head again with a bit of a soft smile pulling at his features.

"Then, welcome to the family, Sans the Skeleton."

"it's an honor." Sans nodded adjusting again to lower himself from the gurney. "now, let's get going. we still have to make sure gaine pays for what he's done."

"There you go with that 'we' nonsense again. Sans, I've told you, this is something I am responsible for! Gaine is mine to deal with. And I won't have you, a brand new monster with no idea or grasp of what he is, running out and getting yourself killed again! I'm responsible for you if something were to happen."

"with all due respect, doc . . ." Sans interrupted as he released his hold on the gurney and stood on his own for the first time since waking up, "no you're not. maybe when you were my boss, yeah, but not now. you have no say in what i do. now, you're taking me with you this time. alphys can work on stabilizing the core. it seems to have quieted down, so maybe all you'll have to do is make sure the power is restored to all sectors. and papyrus, you can make sure everyone else is out safely."

"I assure you, there's no need for that." Gaster answered, cutting through Sans' suggestions, "I already have hands working on the reactor. Maltez, Ruddard, and Baelin are at work in there as we speak."

Sans froze for a second, ". . . what!?"

"And it seems you are right. The tremors have ceased. Perhaps they have been able to efficiently reroute the excess energy for the moment and stabilize the affected areas."

"no, gaster, listen. if gaine is going to the core, they _can't_ be in there! i mean, look at what he did to alphys and she was just a bystander! if they resist him in the slightest, if they stand in his way, he _will_ kill them! we have to get going _now_!"

As Gaster looked back on Sans, he could see the sheer anger, and fear in his eyes. Gaster still had trouble believing that a member of his team would be able to do something as heinous as kill their coworkers, however, and perhaps Sans was a bit biased when it came to Gaine because of what he did to the purple human . . . and to him . . . and what they said he did to Kit.

Damn it . . . Gaine really was a madman, wasn't he?

"look, gaster. we have the element of surprise on our side. he won't be expecting me. and . . . " Sans released a deep breath, letting something drop from his resolve. "and i don't even have to fight. let me just go and help. let me help save the others."

It only took a second more as Sans stood tall before Gaster, pleading his case. If the others really were in so much danger, they had no choice. They had to get to them and quickly.

"Very well." Gaster acknowledged, inclining his head.

"Then, I'm going too!" Papyrus stepped up, "I can help fight. And we will have the upper hand if there are more of us against him." Papyrus didn't mention that his number one reason for wanting to go was, of course, to protect Sans. His brother might talk a big game, but even though he had been revived, Papyrus could feel that his HP was still incredibly low . . .

Sans frowned. There was no time left to argue and Sans figured, they could use the help.

"only in an emergency, alright, bro?"

"Understood." Papyrus responded, a bit of his guard training kicking in.

"And w-what should I do?" Alphys asked a bit timidly. She wasn't a fighter and there really wouldn't be much she could do to help if she went along. Still she didn't want to be completely useless. If there was something she could do to help . . . then, that's what she'd do.

The problem was, she had no idea what that was.

Gaster huffed. This was getting out of hand.

"Set up a safe area away from the lab." He instructed, "Bring first aid supplies and food. We don't know what will happen or in what condition the others will be in and they may need the respite. If Gaine catches up to the others they very well could–"

 _ **BOOM!**_

There was a violent shake, more demanding and urgent than any others before it. It rocked the room, nearly sending everyone crashing over themselves. There was no doubt where the disturbance was centered.

"we've gotta go _now_!" Sans pressed.

Gaster nodded, taking Sans' shoulder, already seeing their course in his mind's eye- every turn and every door- every hall and every corridor.

"Papyrus," Sans instructed, "Stay with Alphys. She'll need your help more than we will and when we get the others back. They'll need you too."

Papyrus' jaw dropped, but before he could argue, Gaster and his brother disappeared instantly from sight.

"No!" He cried futilely after them, "Damn it!"

* * *

Gaster released Sans' shoulder when they reappeared at the entrance to the CORE. Already, there was a dark looming feeling of apprehension surrounding them.

"We can't waste any more time." Gaster pushed and led the way inside, "I want you to focus on finding the others and getting out as soon as possible. Let me handle Gaine."

"doc, you _know_ he's setting you up! let me help! you know i can fight."

"No, Sans!" Gaster snapped again, "You must understand, this is incredibly dangerous . . . I didn't say anything before because I didn't want to worry Alphys or Papyrus . . . You have been revived, it's true, but you have only been brought back with 1 HP. I can't have you doing anything reckless. On top of your 1 HP, you no longer have your Determination, so, you must be exceedingly cautious from now on. If you take any damage whatsoever, you _will_ turn to dust. So, it is imperative that you do as I say. You are _not_ to get involved, in any circumstance! You are _not_ to fight! You are to find the others and get out. And if I say run, you get out immediately, understand?"

Sans hesitated for a brief and solemn moment, "okay, doc." he answered, thinking it over, "get the others, get out. got it."

Another lie.

"what i don't understand is how they managed to stay in the core with you in the first place, especially when you were so hard-pressed to do everything in your own?"

"Just like you, they were insistent." Gaster responded instantly, "It seems as if I've managed to hire the most frustratingly stubborn group of monsters the Underground had to offer."

"yeah, well." Sans hummed, "you can thank us later. for now, we've got work to do."

"Indeed."

So Sans and Gaster made quick work of navigating. As soon as they stepped inside, there was a surge of flowing energy and heat, nearly making the CORE unbearable.

. . . If the others were still in here . . .

Gaster led the way once again toward the room he'd left his assistants and Sans followed one step behind. Off to the right side of the elevator seemed to be the main source of heat and energy. That's where the others had been. That's where the disturbance had originated.

The doors to the room were smoldering, impossible to grip by hand, and the automatic doors, of course, were non-functional. Gaster instead summoned his magic hands to pry the door open for them. It took a great deal of effort and more magic than he was expecting for something so simple, but the doors were eventually opened and immediately, there was another forceful blast awaiting them.

Inside, they were greeted by another stronger surge of energy, raging winds, and searing heat to the point that it would not have been surprising if their clothing caught on fire. Both Gaster and Sans had to raise their arms in front of them to try to block the sheer force.

But the only reason for the winds to be this intense was if . . .

From under his forearm, Gaster dared a look to the room where he'd left his other assistants.

The entire back half of the room had been blown away, leaving a gaping hole where there should have been a wall of protection between them and the burning flames.

But more than that . . . His team . . . where Maltez, Baelin and Ruddard had been . . . there was nothing! No one around . . .

Again, there was that sinking feeling . . . that terrible weight in his chest.

And laughter tugging at the edges of his awareness. They weren't alone in this furnace.

"Welcome to the show!" The voice called, "So nice of you to join us!"

At Gaster's side, Sans stilled, lowering his arms slightly to glare over the top of them, trying to locate the source of the voice.

"gaine . . . " he muttered.

"And look. The doctor even brought along his own bartering chip!"

"Gaine!" Gaster called, "I'm not here to fight! Just tell me where the others are and we can settle this rationally like scientists, like colleagues!"

"Rational!?" Gaine laughed out loud, his voice pitching, "Colleagues!? You bring that _thing_ with you and you want to talk as if we're on the same level!?"

"that's not important right now, gaine!" Sans spoke up now, "where are the others!?"

He turned in hopes to actually locate the other monster. They couldn't afford not to have him in their sights at all times. "what did you –"

As soon as he turned, he was greeted with a harsh claw and a tight grip around his neck. Gaine laughed again as he lifted Sans off of the ground, keeping his hand clenched tight around Sans' throat.

Immediately, Sans noticed how difficult it was to breathe. Though he no longer had a physical throat, his airways still functioned in the same way.

And they were being obstructed. Already, he was beginning to feel lightheaded.

"Well well! If it isn't the pet! How did _you_ get out!? I thought I was through with you! I watched you die myself! I saw the machine extract your soul! So, how did you do it, you slippery little worm!?"

Sans struggled against the grip, raising his hands to dig into the underside Gaine's wrist in hopes of prying the hand away, "g-gaine . . ."

"Unhand him!" Came the demanding growl of Gaster. All at once, there was a flash and Gaine let out a hiss as he was forced to release Sans. Gaster's magic surrounded both Gaine and Sans separating the one from the other. Sans was released from the magic moments later, but Gaster pushed Gaine hard, almost slamming him against the far wall. He made sure Gaine remained solidly in his grip, his movements limited.

"Are you alright, Sans!?" Gaster called.

"i'm fine!" Sans answered through a harsh cough.

"Just as I thought!" Gaine chided, shaking his head as he held his gaze high, talking down his nose to Gaster even as the magic surrounding him restricted his mobility. It only further demonstrated his point, "You say you're not here to fight, yet here we are."

"I'm _not_ here to fight, Gaine, so long as you leave Sans out of this." Gaster pushed again, "Your issue is with me, isn't it? I'm right here! Let's talk."

"Oh, no, too late, Gaster!" Gaine chided again. "If you didn't want your favorite toy to get broken, you shouldn't have brought it along! He's involved now. Like it or not!"

"fine by me!" Sans combated, a certain amount of fury in his voice. He could even feel the magic within him begin to shift and course through his body in a way he'd never felt before. It felt more intense and more pure than anything he had ever used before. "i still owe you payback after all, plus a little interest! time to settle the score!"

"No, Sans!" Gaster interrupted, shooting his arm out to stop him, "Stay behind me!"

Biting back his own frustration, Sans huffed, still trying to suppress his new energy. In the end, he stood down, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. He didn't want to admit it, but as he was, he wouldn't stand a chance against Gaine; not one-on-one. It would probably be best if Gaster handled things here.

Damn it all.

"Well, that is interesting." Gaine hummed, "What's the matter? This thing could easily take me with one hit if it wanted to. Or is it that you don't have the juice, Sans? What? Too tired to go another round?"

Sans scoffed, still fighting to bite his tongue. He wanted to lash out. He _wanted_ to get his revenge he _wanted_ to give Gaine a nice taste of that latent fury.

"like the doc said," Sans growled through clenched teeth, "we're not here to fight . . ."

"Maybe _he_ isn't." Gaine scoffed right back, gesturing to the taller Skeleton, "But somehow, I get the feeling that's not the case for you. Maybe _he's_ the one you should have in your grip, Doctor! For the safety of your 'colleagues'."

"You're stalling, Gaine." Gaster frowned, "Where are the others. Tell us that and _then_ we can talk."

Gaine chuckled to himself, letting his eyes slide shut and his head fall forward.

"Isn't it incredible how sentimental monsters are!?" Gaine grinned, "The lengths they're willing to go when they're afraid to lose something or someone close to them!? They never fail to disappoint. But it also makes them so damned predictable!"

"Of course," Gaster answered, trying to bring his tone back down to a more calm and even level. The last thing he wanted was for this to escalate, but it seemed as if Gaine was deliberately building them up. Gaster refused to allow him to. "The same could be said of any of us. When those near to us are endangered, it is only natural to want to protect them."

"But you especially, _Doctor_! You have been particularly easy to control! It was almost boring." Gaine sighed and shook his head. "Every single time." He recounted, "Every _single_ time! You always chose him over the rest of your team. You should have known there would be consequences. Opportunity costs! Repercussions! Didn't you think that maybe just _once_ your team was just a little more important!? That just maybe _they_ needed your help more? Instead of running off, you _should_ have been here! Taking care of business and of your _team_! Now look where it's gotten you! Look at the beautiful chaos your choices have wrought!"

The magic surrounding Gaine solidified instantly and became a large magic hand, tightly gripping Gaine, threatening to crush him in its grip.

"What. Did. You. DO!?" Gaster demanded.

"Oh! I didn't do a thing!" Gaine bit back, "I just showed them the awful truth of their employer. That they couldn't even rely on you to come to their aid when they needed you most because your priorities were elsewhere."

"While you were tending to your pet, this room was in peril! It couldn't handle the sheer force and energy of the CORE any longer and it gave way. Everyone's attention was spread so thin and they were all distracted, they just couldn't handle a crumbling room on top of it all. If only you'd been here, Doctor, you could have helped them . . . Instead, your team had to pay for your negligence!"

"It was Ruddard who stepped up first. He tried to save the other two, but in the end, the room took him. He went down easily. Baelin would have too if not for Maltez. That little tool! He was so adamant about protecting her. Honestly, if it weren't so sickening, it would have been admirable and maybe a little cute. They even fell together. Heh, Maltez always did carry a torch for Baelin. Too bad it ended up getting him burned. If he'd just let her go, he could've gotten out."

Sans' eyes went wide and pitch black at the story. The same was true for Gaster.

"HOW COULD YOU!?" Gaster roared and even the heat of the surrounding area seemed to give way to his fury as his magic surrounded him. The hand gripped tighter around Gaine and the other monster finally let out the slightest cry of pain, "THEY DID NOTHING TO YOU! THEY DID NOT DESERVE THAT!"

"Oh, wait." Gaine smiled through, chuckling slightly around his discomfort, "You think this is _my_ fault? You're blaming _me_ for their deaths? I told you. I didn't do a damned _thing_!"

"so, in other words, you stood there and _let_ it happen?!" Sans stepped in, "you were right there! you could have saved them! they could have escaped! they could have lived!"

"Oh gee, you know, you've got me there, Serif. But you see, I wasn't supposed to be here anyway. I'm suspended, remember? No, no. Whatever happened to the others, the doctor has no one to blame but himself! You made your choice, Gaster, when you left them to fend for themselves while you ran off to save your dog! Everything that happened to the others only happened because _you_ weren't there to save them. _They_ are the consequence. Now the question here is: how do you plan on living with yourself knowing that you could have saved them, if _only_ you'd made the right choice!?"

The large hand threatening to crush Gaine faltered as Gaster's resolve faltered as well. The doctor's grip loosened as his struggle turned internal. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Gaine was absolutely right!

 _ **'But it isn't anything you didn't already know, is it, Gaster?'**_ Said a familiar dark rattling rumble. NV sounded more forceful and more derisive than ever- there to dig into his wounds with a burning and dull serrated edge and stuff them full of salt immediately after.

Gaster let it. He deserved it after all. After what happened. After what _he_ let happen.

 _ **'That's right! Gaine found your weakness and exploited it for all it was worth! This is all your fault and you know it! You are the one who let them die! You are the one who left them, your dedicated and loyal team, who would have moved**_ _ **MOUNTAINS**_ _**for you, to be burned alive while you took off!"**_

 _ **"To tend to someone who was already dead, you sacrificed the living!"**_

 _ **"Congratulations, Gaster, you've reached a new low! Now you can add three more names to your list of people you failed to save!"**_

The hand faded from existence, releasing Gaine as Gaster doubled over on himself, clutching his skull. He let out his own cry of pain and frustration as the truth of his actions crashed over him. Because of him, his team was gone! Because of him, three more people needlessly lost their lives . . .

. . . Because of him . . .

"don't let him get in your head, gaster!" Sans called, his own magic pooling once again and this time, he let it fill him completely, "he said it himself! he isn't even supposed to be here! there wouldn't have even been an issue with the core if _he_ hadn't been here to cause it! _he_ is the one responsible for what happened to the others. _he's_ the one responsible for what happened to _everyone_!"

Instinctively, Sans threw out his hand toward Gaine as his anger climbed. At his command, several bones, blue and white, all shot out toward the source of rage. The bones flew through the space and rushed toward Gaine at break-neck speed.

Gaine dodged the attack expertly. Only a single bone managed to scratch his upper arm and cut into his sleeve.

Gaine laughed full out, "Well, look at you! It seems your master's taught you some new tricks!"

For the slightest moment, Sans hesitated as well. Bones . . . just like Papyrus' attacks! But _he'd_ never summoned a bone attack before . . . He never even thought it possible to do anything outside of blue magic.

. . . Of course that had been before . . . when he was human.

"O-ho!" Gaine hummed, "Looks like it's new to you too. How interesting! I thought for sure that you'd know all about your own magic, right? That's sorta how it works, isn't it?"

Sans huffed as he prepared another attack, holding out his hand. Immediately, Gaine's soul was taken in a solid blue grip.

"don't you ever stop talking?" Sans growled, lifting Gaine into the air. He was prepared to slam Gaine against the walls as many times as it took to wear him down . . . even to throw him over the edge if that's what it came to.

And this time, there wouldn't be anyone to stop him . . .

Somewhere in the back of his mind was a woman's voice.

And it sounded sad as it replayed in his head. She begged him not to harm Gaine. To let him go and to show him what being a decent person meant.

Maybe he would have listened once upon a time, a time before the subject in question _killed_ the object of his wishful delusions . . . before Gaine killed everyone Sans cherished! Everyone that made him feel like he was part of something great! Everyone who made him feel whole!

He pushed the voice far from his mind as his magic flared again into his hands and in his eyes . . . eye . . . his right eye didn't seem to want to . . .

A sharp throbbing pain seemed to pierce his skull straight through and the magic in his eye flickered. His attention lost, Sans released Gaine and reached instead to tend to his eye. He cringed through the pain until he pulled his hand away to inspect a curious substance coating his fingers.

Blood . . . ?

How was his eye still bleeding? He thought everything that made him human had been stripped away when Papyrus gave him back his soul. If that was true, then he shouldn't have been _able_ to bleed.

He sensed the attack coming immediately and took a step back, dodging almost as if it was second nature, like a choreographed dance set up purely for the enjoyment of the ghosts of the surrounding area.

"Damn it." Gaine chuckled to himself, "Still sharper than I'd like. No matter. You've still only got . . . Gaine CHECKED Sans' stats and let out a fierce cackle of a laugh.

"Only ONE HP!? Seriously!? You've got to be kidding me! That's hilarious! No wonder Gaster was so determined not to let you fight!"

Sans glared back at Gaine, wiping the blood from his face and preparing another attack.

Gaine scoffed, "Please, this'll be a cakewalk. And I can't tell you how good it'll be to finally be rid of you! The chosen one. The golden child! The teacher's pet! You really don't know how privileged you were to have the doctor there to answer to your every beck and call and meanwhile the rest of us -the rest of the team was pushed off to some forgotten backburner and for what!? For a dismissive, careless, incompetent employer who never even bothered to learn our names!"

". . . Fitz, Marielle, Barton." Said a low grumble from behind them.

Gaine's ears perked at the sound. His attention turned toward the doctor, who was still hunched over, almost as if he was nursing an upset stomach. Something in his posture and in his general presence shifted dramatically. Something in him seemed to have snapped completely as the air around him darkened and became heavy.

 _ **"Their names were Fitz Maltez, Marielle Baelin, and Barton Ruddard!"**_

Gaine couldn't help himself. He froze as his attention was cemented to the doctor. Gaine's ears fell as he listened to the new tone Gaster's voice had taken on. If he thought Gaster was distant or serious before, it was nothing compared to this new side. This new Gaster was . . . cold . . . frigid even. He was intimidating. No . . . more than that.

Gaine swallowed as he took a steadying step backward. His fingers twitched in uncertainty as he reached for his pocket and the slight warmth harbored there. Blue, Yellow, Green, and Purple little pills he'd stolen from the doctor. Each one filled with pure Determination. He may need them after all.

But . . . This was what he'd asked for, isn't it? A chance to confront Gaster and to get an unfiltered, unadulterated answer from him. But this . . . was more than he'd bargained for!

"Y-you said you wanted to talk, right, Gaster?" Gaine tried, steeling himself again, "Alright. I'm game. Let's—"

 _ **"IT'S TOO LATE FOR TALK!"**_ The booming rumble spat.

Once again, Gaine was caught in one of Gaster's floating hands. The grip trapped him so suddenly and it was so harsh that Gaine never even had the opportunity to move before he was taken up by the hand, the strength in the grip threatening to crush him completely in a matter of seconds.

Gaine released a cry and immediately attempted to stifle it by clenching his teeth.

Gaster still had yet to raise his head and approached Gaine in slow uneven steps with a single arm outstretched as he commanded the magic hand threatening to crush his former assistant. As he approached, he passed Sans and with his free hand, he laid a hand flat on Sans' chest and pushed him almost violently backward and out of the way. Sans landed unceremoniously on his back and he scrambled to see what the heck was going on with Gaster. He'd never seen Gaster so upset before. Even when he believed that Papyrus was a murderer. Being brought face-to-face with the truth and with the true killer. It looked as if Gaster had completely lost any and all remaining control of his tempered façade. It was as if he was a completely different person altogether.

When he approached Gaine, he raised the magic hand so Gaine was lifted off of the floor. Still, Gaster kept is head lowered.

 _ **"Don't you DARE assume you can tell me what I know or how I feel you son of a bitch!"**_ The darkened voice growled, _ **"You have no right to put words in my mouth or actions in my hands! And now three people are DEAD! AND FOR WHAT!? SO YOU COULD PROVE A POINT!? What did they do!? How could you hate them so much that you couldn't even bring yourself to save them!? That you could sit there and WATCH them die and then SMILE about it!?"**_

"G-Gaster . . ." Gaine forced out, "You- you said that you didn't—"

 _ **"The circumstances have changed! You've taken FAR too many lives, Gaine! I won't allow you the opportunity to take any others! You . . . you're worse than human! Sans SHOULD have killed you that night in the hall! If he had, then they would still be alive!"**_

The hand tightened even more as Gaster shifted, turning himself and Gaine out toward the gaping maw where the back of the room had fallen away. Gaine hissed and kicked and tried his claws, anything he could to break free. But no matter how hard he struggled, nothing came of it.

"Damn it!" He growled, "Damn it all!"

Step by uneven step, Gaster carried the struggling Gaine until they reached the end of the room. A few feet away from the edge, Gaster stopped, but the hand kept onward until Gaine's feet were dangling over the burning abyss below.

"Not like this!" He muttered, ceasing his struggle. If he managed to break free now, he would only fall into the fire. "Damn it! It wasn't supposed to happen like this!"

Gaster finally tilted his head and peered upward with his good eye. His pupils were constricted to white pinpricks in his pitch black sockets and there was a wide smile torn across his face, jagged and wild. And it even looked as if he may have been trying to keep it from melting on itself. In fact his whole face seemed to be on the verge of melting! Was the heat starting to get the better of him? Even if it was, why would he be _melting_!? Since when did bones melt in the heat?

If he had been in a rational and level mindframe, these were questions Gaine would have asked upon seeing Gaster's face for the first time since this new malicious side took over. Instead, he was filled with trepidation and fear as he realized he'd made a dire mistake in challenging this man. Any sign of the doctor had long since gone and this . . . person in front of him, dangling him over a fiery tomb was not someone who could be reasoned with.

Gaster raised his second hand now, pooling energy into it. In the air next to Gaine, there was a noticeable shift, nearly tangible as another figure began to form. Large, solid, fearsome with dark sockets and sharp jagged fangs. It was the giant skull of a large animal staring him down as if it hadn't eaten in decades. Just like Gaster, the skull was cracked- not enough to be in danger of falling apart but enough to know exactly to whom this incredible power belonged. As it continued to stare Gaine down, the eyes began to glow as even more power filled it.

Gaine looked back to the giant animal skull and could not find words. He had to fight with himself to even keep breathing. When the jaws parted and a light, bright and even more searing than the flames, burned to life, Gaine shut his eyes against it. He may have even let out a bit of a whimpering mewl, the fear getting the better of him.

 _ **"Not so fun when it's your own death you're facing, is it!?"**_ Gaster demanded, _**"When the consequence is your existence!? When the number being called is yours!?"**_

"G-Gaster . . . ?" Gaine pleaded, "Gaster, please!"

 _ **"NO!"**_ Gaster raged, _**"NO! YOU DON'T GET TO BEG FOR YOUR LIFE! YOU DON'T GET TO TRY TO CONVINCE ME TO SPARE YOU! YOU DON'T DESERVE MERCY!"**_

From further inside the room, Sans pulled himself to his feet as he watched the scene play out. Something very familiar pulled at his soul and the voice tugged at his memory once again. The other side to Ava's speech. The side of the witness who was about to watch a loved one cross a very fine line and become something they never wanted to see.

He had to stop Gaster! Before he did something he'd regret.

 _ **"KIT. FITZ. MARIELLE. BARTON. SIMM. I DIDN'T PROTECT THEM. I DIDN'T PROTECT ANY OF THEM FROM YOU, BUT I'LL SURE AS HELL AVENGE THEM!"**_

"gaster, wait!" Sans called after him.

 _ **"IT ENDS HERE, GAINE!"**_

"Gaster, no!"

Sans threw out his hand and another animal skull appeared in an instant, floating before him. Another first. He'd never summoned skulls for this before. From its jaws, a bright white beam shot forward, hitting Gaster square in the back. The attack wasn't very strong, and it didn't do much damage, especially in comparison to Gaster's strength, but it was enough for what Sans had in mind.

Gaster stumbled forward as his own attack was redirected. It still hit Gaine, shaving off a drastic amount of his HP, but it didn't kill him.

"this isn't you, gaster!" Sans called, "you would never take another monster's life!"

 _ **"AND WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHAT I WOULD AND WOULDN'T DO!?"**_

"c'mon, doc! you know me! and i know you! i've worked with you for _years_! i know _why_ you work! i know what motivates you! i know your dedication! and i know your passion! this _isn't_ you! you're better than this, doc! don't lower yourself to his standard! be the bigger man here!"

Gaster hesitated for a moment, turning to look back at his captive, burned and injured, in the grip of his floating hand.

 _ **"You're absolutely right, Sans!"**_ Gaster responded, but even through the response, his shoulders shook through a laugh, _**"That sounds exactly like the Gaster you know. TOO BAD HE'S NOT HERE RIGHT NOW!"**_

At the response, Sans paused, drawing in a sharp breath. What the hell . . . ? Something was seriously wrong. He had _never_ seen Gaster like this before and he never thought he would see the day Gaster would be driven to actually taking another monster's life . . . and that smile . . . it was nothing short of terrifying. No, this wasn't the Gaster he knew . . . but then, if he wasn't the doc, who was he?

Sans attempted to regain himself, taking another slow step forward, his hand outstretched in preparation. Whether that hand would be used to take Gaster's . . . or to attack Gaster . . . that all depended on the doctor.

"c'mon, doc. put gaine down. he isn't worth it. would you be able to live knowing that his death was on you?"

"S-Serif . . .?" Gaine groaned, "What are you . . . why are you trying to save me?"

"shut up!" Sans snapped back, "i'm not trying to save you. i don't give a shit about you, you murdering piece of garbage. i'm trying to save _him_."

The one standing in for Gaster let out a deep laugh and mixed in that laugh was a tumbling sound like asphalt.

 _ **"WHAT MAKES YOU THINK I NEED SAVING?"**_ Gaster grinned, taking the moment to turn and face Sans. He still kept Gaine hanging in his grip over the edge, _**"WHAT MAKES YOU THINK HE WOULD BE THE FIRST!? WHAT MAKES HIM WORTH SAVING AFTER EVERYTHING HE'S DONE?"**_

"i already told you, _he_ isn't worth it. but you are . . . or at least doctor gaster is . the gaster I know. he would never be able to live with himself knowing that he was the cause of another monster's death . . . i've watched him beat himself up for _years_ over the deaths of monsters he had no control over. i won't allow you to make him suffer that again. besides, death would be the easy way out, for that jerk wouldn't it? so please, let gaine go. we'll deliver him to the royal guard and let justice come to him on its own. make him pay for what he's done. Let him live knowing that it was you who decided to spare him. then, give gaster his mind back and we can piece together what's left. let this nightmare end here."

Through Sans' plea, Gaster's shoulders bounced in silent laughter and his head shook in disbelief.

"you _are_ the one he keeps talking to, aren't you?" Sans questioned, "the one he's always arguing against? you're gaster's id. his "envy". and you've taken over the doctor completely in order to do this for him. i understand. but this isn't your choice to make. it's his. he's the one who will have to live with the aftermath. let him choose the ending."

Gaster continued to laugh, _**"HOW NOBLE OF YOU! I SEE WHY HE KEEPS YOU AROUND. YOU REALLY ARE DEDICATED TO HIM, AREN'T YOU? BUT, I'M AFRAID I CAN'T AFFORD TO LET HIM COME BACK JUST YET. GASTER DOESN'T HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS, IT'S TRUE, WHICH IS WHY HE LET ME OUT TO PLAY. DON'T YOU GET IT? HE'S ALREADY MADE HIS CHOICE. AND I AM THAT CHOICE. NOW, I HAVE A JOB TO DO."**_

Again, Gaster turned his back to Sans and toward the figure struggling in his grip. Gaine was still as trapped as ever, but Gaster gave another firm squeeze of his hand, reminding him just how doomed he was. Gaine cried out in pain.

Behind him, Sans lowered his head as his hand clenched at his side. The hand he had outstretched began to gather more energy and once again a large animal skull materialized before him, larger than the last. The eyes began to glow and the pain started up again in Sans' right eye. Both his eye and the skull's flickered in uncertainty until they both shut off completely. Blood continued to run down Sans' cheek like burning tears, but he didn't pay it any attention.

"i'm so sorry, gaster." He whispered, "i can't just do nothing while you destroy yourself."

Sans released the beam and it shot toward Gaster at full power. At the last possible second, the doctor responded, whipping his head around again to see the blast coming right at him. It was an impressive amount of magic to be sure, especially for one as fragile as Sans, but it was nothing he couldn't handle.

Gaster threw out his second hand to shield against the attack and a barrier sprung into existence. Sans' light bounced off of the shield and flared outward around the doctor, but the force behind the attack was undeniable and it steadily pushed Gaster backward toward the destroyed end of the room.

Gaster groaned at the effort it took to keep the barrier up as well as his balance. But even through that, there was something else. Another draw on his focus and power. The animal skull that had been ready to blast Gaine had since dematerialized and reassembled itself directly behind Sans. Its cracked face opened at the jaw as energy began to gather in its mouth.

Still, Sans continued to fire his beam.

"put gaine down. give the doctor his mind back and i'll stop." Sans demanded. He could feel the burning of the energy behind him and monitored that as well. So, Gaster's "envy" was so desperate to keep control that he was willing enough blast him in the back?

So be it. Then this would be the end of them all. Sans was not about to back down from the threat any more than if it had been his mortal enemy.

He could hear it when the doctor's blaster finished gathering energy. He could feel the energy burning into his back and he could feel it in his soul when his own blaster was pulling up on its last reserves.

Still, he refused to back down.

"Sans!" A voice called out from beyond the barrier, "Sans, no!"

The beam was released. Still, Sans refused to move.

So he had to be forced to move!

Another large disembodied hand materialized at the last possible second, shoving Sans out of the way of the attack. Sans hit the wall hard, the beam missing him, but the powerful shove and the solid walls of the room pinned him harshly and kept him immobile. He fell to the ground, dizzy, disoriented, and unstable, having used up his reserves and his strength.

The blast continued forward, directly toward Gaster now! And now that the energy had been released, there was no stopping it. Gaster did what he could to fortify his barrier before the blast hit, but it wasn't much. The blast made contact and the shock of the force shook the entire room. Support beams trembled and buckled, jolting everyone inside back toward the blasted end.

At the edge, Gaster lost his footing as the room tilted from lack of support. He fought with the room and with himself to remain standing, but everything was off! He fell to a knee for stability, but continued toward the edge.

The animal skull as well as the hand holding Gaine dematerialized in the confusion. And with the disappearance, Gaine was released and he immediately began to fall. At the cry of the other, Gaster shot into action once again and he reached out behind him. From his position, Gaine reached out as well gripping Gaster's hand through the large hole in his palm.

The resulting jerk when Gaine's fall bottomed out, pulled Gaster down as well, right over the edge of the room, Gaster caught them both, hooking his elbow and upper body against the edge.

Still, the room tilted and the churning sound of grinding metal filled the area.

Sans, from his spot, remained pinned against the wall, Gaster's hand preventing him from sliding or moving at all. The doctor had saved him from the blast and had taken the force himself. He was still in there! Not only that, but he was back in control of his own body.

Sans witnessed as Gaster stumbled over the edge and caught himself as well as Gaine before either of them could fall. They were still okay!

But the room around them continued to shift. At this rate, they would fall completely.

He had to help! He had to get them back up! They could all still escape!

"gaster!" He called, struggling to free himself from the hand, "gaster! let me help you! c'mon, let me out of here!"

Gaster's attention snapped again toward Sans.

"Sans!" Doctor Gaster called up to the other, more out of shock than anything else. Why was Sans still here!? Why hadn't he made a run for it already!? This whole place was going down. And Sans had made a promise!

"gaster!" Sans cried out again, his hand reaching desperately through the bony bars of his cage. Not again! The doctor wasn't gonna leave him stuck to the sidelines again, unable to do anything, "c'mon, doc! we gotta get outta here!"

Sans tried to focus what little energy he had left. Surely he could do something as simple as pull Gaster up! To save him!

Another support beam buckled and a far section of the room gave through like a large slice had been taken away. When it fell, there was another resounding _crash_ that shook the room violently. As a result, the room continued to tilt to dangerous levels. Gaster and Gaine groaned as they fought for their grips.

But something was terribly wrong.

"Doctor!" Gaine called, a wavering uncertainty in his voice.

Gaster chanced a look downward to where Gaine was gripping to his hand for dear life. He could already feel what the issue was, but actually seeing it brought a new level of alarm to the situation.

Gaster's wrist was crumbling- his hand, splintering. His arm was giving out on him! It was beginning to turn to dust. Already, the strength in that arm was compromised and it was everything he could do to keep Gaine—

"DOCTOR!" Gaine cried, holding tightly to the hand even as the wrist completely crumbled away.

It happened quickly- far too quickly to even react.

Gaine's eyes went wide as he plummeted quickly out of reach. The reality of what was happening shot through him like lightning. He was falling and there was nothing that could stop it.

Still, he held tightly to Gaster's hand as if, somehow, it could save him.

"GAINE!" Gaster cried watching as another member of his team was lost to the flames.

As Gaine fell and met the flames below, there was a blinding flash of light, unexpected and oddly warm. It only lasted a few seconds and died out immediately afterward, but still . . . there was something strange about that light. It almost felt . . . alive somehow.

Again, the room shook! And Gaster gripped even tighter at the edge of the platform.

"Sans!" The doctor cried out.

Sans nodded, it was up to him to save Gaster!

"hang on, gaster!"

Sans grabbed at Gaster's soul, determined to use his blue magic to lift him up to the platform, but the moment he had a hold of the soul, it was ripped away from him. At first, Sans thought that it was because of his own weakness . . . that maybe he just didn't have the strength left . . .

. . . until he saw the look on Gaster's face as he shook his head . . . was he . . . smiling?

"Sans, you have to get out of here!" Gaster instructed in a calm voice- eerily calm- disturbingly calm.

Sans' face fell, a million thoughts hitting him at once and each one pinning his own soul to the ground. It was the one thing he'd been dreading- the one thing he didn't want Gaster to say to him while they were here. He could feel Gaster's resolve through the command and the reserved acceptance.

But that didn't mean shit to Sans!

"no!" He argued vehemently, "gaster, no! if i'm getting out, you're getting out with me, got it!? just let me fuckin' _help_ you, okay!?"

Even as he said it, the tears fell, mixing with the blood staining his cheek. He knew what was coming. He'd already played this entire conversation out in his head. Several times over. He already knew what the doctor would say.

"We had a deal, Sans." The doctor reminded him as a firm grip surrounded his soul and his entire being. A faint blue glow encased him as the large skeletal hand finally gave way. Sans was still unable to move and he couldn't escape Gaster's hold even as he tried to use his own blue magic to negate Gaster's.

Still the doctor smiled at him. The beginnings of his own tears starting to fall slowly from his cracked sockets. Were those splinters new? And there were even more cracks in his skull and in his remaining hand. He was shattering- crumbling into dust right in front of Sans!

"I'm sorry." He sighed, "This will be the last time I ask this of you. You have my word."

"fuck that!" Sans cried, "fuck 'sorry'! you're still talking, aren't you!? you're still breathing, aren't you!? you can still—"

"No, Sans!" Gaster snapped. "I've already come to terms with this . . . I need you to as well. For me. Can you do that for me, Sans?"

Sans shook his head furiously, choked sobs fighting to escape now. This couldn't be goodbye! Not now! Not Gaster! Not like this!

"let me help you, doc! i-i can help! i can figure it out. _we_ can figure it out!"

The room buckled again. Gaster nearly slipped, but he brought his other arm up, using his forearm as a secondary, albeit flimsy, anchor.

"LEAVE, SANS!" He demanded.

"no! i can't lose you too! not on top of everything else! i can't afford to lose you!"

"And _I_ can't afford to lose another son!"

Sans clenched his eyes, his throat closing in, "don't start that again!" he fumed, "don't you dare!"

"Just one thing . . ." Gaster began again, a bit of that calm curiosity ebbing back into his tone, "Answer me this last thing . . .

"It's about Papyrus . . . I'm sure you know by now, but I used my little boy's dust in his creation with a glimmer of hope that part of him would live on in Papyrus . . . tell me, Sans, is he in there? Is my Corbel in there?"

Sans' breathing was uneven as a part of him finally began to accept what was happening.

"i think you know the answer to that already, doc . . . but to give you a plain answer, yes. i really do think he is. i think i may have even met him before. he convinced me to keep going and not to give up when i needed to hear it most. you-you've really got a great kid, doc."

Gaster nodded slowly as his smile spread. "I agree. Now . . . promise me you'll take care of your brother, Sans!"

Sans hesitated . . . another promise . . . but this was for _Gaster_ so . . . "of course, gaster . . . i-i promise . . ."

The room's final supports gave way, shaking everything as the entire structure fell.

Gaster's eyes went wide now as a realization hit him too. No! Sans! Sans was supposed to be long gone by now and if the room was falling . . . there was no way for him to escape!

. . . unless . . .

It was a risk, after all, he didn't know what the rooms beyond here looked like anymore . . . but it was the only thing he had left.

The blue aura surrounding Sans glowed in an ephemeral brilliance, a brief moment of light and of warmth before the magic entered him, filling his very being, permeating every bone down and straight through to his soul.

"Go!" Gaster commanded, releasing the edge of the platform to throw his hand back out toward Sans. A part of his magic was there inside him now, he could use it!

In an instant, Sans was gone, his form dissipating and leaving a completely empty room.

Gaster's smile spread as he allowed his tears to be released. Even as he felt the heavy weightlessness of falling, as the final images of the room and of Sans disappeared, he was unafraid. He'd done the right thing. He took solace in knowing that they would live. The last of his team.

. . . Alphys . . .

And _both_ his sons . . .

. . . Sans . . .

And Papyrus . . .

He let that thought fill every void in his mind and an overwhelming sense of pride washed over him. And even as he fell into the depths, he could not feel the searing winds or the scorching heat that threatened to boil him alive. To him, it didn't exist beyond the immense euphoric elation as he let it all slip away.

Wait a minute . . .

Something seemed a bit off . . .

Shouldn't he be burning along with the walls of the room? They were on fire; the flaming maw of the CORE devouring every screw and bolt, but not him. In fact, he was starting to feel cold as a hungry darkness descended over him . . .

Soon all light around him was doused . . . extinguished . . . snuffed out . . .

Everything around him was going dark . . .

Darker . . .

Yet Darker . . .

* * *

 **AN: well there you have it! We all knew it was coming . . . we might not have wanted it to ever come, but it was inevitable. So long to the science team . . . It actually, almost physically hurts to say goodbye to them!**

 **And Gaster . . . I cried.**

 **I plan for there to be maybe two more installments of this story . . . and then, that's it! It'll be all over!**

 **(Unless I decide to write a "sequel" that wouldn't actually be a sequel, just a separate story set after these events with possible callbacks to them and the characters. Would anyone be interested in that?)**

 **Also, just in case anyone was wondering, Gaine's first name is Aldrin.**

 **Alrighty, that's it for me! See you guys next chapter!**


	21. Dark, Darker, Yet Darker

**AN: I can't believe it's already been two MONTHS since the last update! It's been kinda crazy . . . again. Life and everything keeps getting in the way. I've got a new job, moved to a new city and graduated college! It's been a crazy two months!**

 **During that time, I've been writing when I can and I've gotten almost everything done! This story is almost over! I can't believe it! I may cry!**

 **Please enjoy this final chapter! There will be an epilogue coming soon.**

 **Thank you all for your continued support!**

* * *

 _ **Chapter 18**_

 _ **Dark, Darker, Yet Darker**_

"gaster, no!"

But the doctor only smiled as he fell from sight and into the flames. The resulting flash of light was nearly blinding. Just like with Gaine, the light gave off a certain life of its own. It inhabited the immediate area for only a second before it blinked from existence, taking the last of Gaster with it.

Instantly and simultaneously, Sans' body fell numb as the walls disappeared from around him. When the feeling returned, it was as if he'd emerged from the light itself, completely unharmed and intact as he stood on unstable legs on the other side of the automatic sliding doors that had been pried open. He still had a perfect view of the room beyond . . . or . . . what used to be the room beyond.

Now, instead, there was nothing left but an empty area and a bottomless pit. A walkway that dead-ended to nothing. To a room full of fire and a seemingly endless abyss.

Something deep and urgent called out to him at the sight and it gripped tightly to the strings of his soul, coaxing him forward toward the vast emptiness. That's where Gaster had been, where the others had fallen.

He stepped forward, obeying the call.

"gaster . . . ?" he whispered as he approached the edge. There were no more tremors and no more quakes. Everything was finally quiet and finally still.

But none of that mattered to Sans, he didn't care about the tremors, he didn't care about the quakes. He didn't even care about the room.

" . . . gaster." he repeated. Again, the word refused to leave his mouth as anything but a quiet whisper.

He stood at the very edge of the walkway where it dead-ended and he looked downward into the blackness beneath.

It made no sense! Gaster had been right there! He'd fallen from right here! Along with the entire room! Along with Gaine, Maltez, Baelin, and Ruddard! All of them!

So where had they gone!?

There was no sign of any of them. There was no . . . anything.

Just blackness . . . and fire.

Though the physical feeling had returned to him since he had been teleported, he still felt numb in every other regard, except for a large and excruciatingly painful hole that had been ripped open inside of him. He gripped tightly at his chest and he felt as if something inside of him was about to implode on itself. His eyes were wide and empty. His heart . . . his soul was wide and empty.

He was . . . empty.

And Gaster . . .

Gaster was . . .

And he had been the one to . . . if he hadn't shot that blaster . . . then maybe he wouldn't have been so close to the edge and maybe he wouldn't have fallen.

Maybe Gaster would still be there . . .

Once again, as he looked to the gaping flaming pit where Gaster had been. Sans' vision began to swirl and he felt as if he was going to be sick.

"why, doc!?" Sans whispered to himself. "why the hell would you do something like that!?"

It wasn't worth it! _He_ wasn't worth it!

His whispers turned into cries. "i could've helped you! it didn't have to be like this! we could have gotten out together!"

The fire crackled as the area seemed to stabilize, but there was no other response. It wasn't as if Sans was expecting an answer . . . but it would have been . . .

It would have been what? Nice? Comforting?

Sans stood, looking over the edge in silence . . . maybe he was expecting something a little more than just that. He knew what he _wanted_ and some naïve part of him was still foolishly hoping that maybe Gaster had somehow grabbed onto some craggy part of the edge- that he was somehow able to save himself- that he would suddenly pull himself back into view and they could still make it out.

But that was impossible . . . Gaster had been on the far side of the other room. The room that had been at the end of the walkway . . . If he'd fallen, there would have been no way for him to make it all the way back to this point.

Unless . . .

Well, Sans had traveled that far, hadn't he? And that had been thanks to Gaster's teleportation! Gaster still could have teleported!

There was a creaking sound that pulled on Sans' senses. Immediately, he turned, whipping his attention back over his shoulder.

"gaster!?" He called hopefully. There was even a slight pull at his smile at the thought that maybe the doctor could have been there.

But, of course, when he turned there was nothing- just an empty space and the walkway leading out of the CORE.

No doctor. No familiar face, cracked or otherwise.

Damn it! He was such an idiot, thinking that the doctor would have come to him just like that. Just because he wanted him to be there.

He'd watched him fall. He saw when the flames consumed him. He'd even seen the flash of light when the last of the doctor had vanished. Surely, that light had been his soul being snuffed out- glowing brilliantly for a split second before being smothered completely.

". . . gaster . . ."

That sick feeling was back and he could feel it as the familiar sting in his eyes made itself known once again. His throat closed in on itself and his chest seized.

There had to be something he could do! Something he hadn't tried! Something that could still save the doctor . . . to save them all!

He wouldn't accept that the entire team . . . everyone he cared about . . . every single one of them was gone! He couldn't!

He could feel his magic flowing . . . flickering, dying . . . with what little bit he had left, he had to try! This would be his only opportunity. If he didn't do it now, if he couldn't find them now . . . there really would be no way to save them.

Ruddard! Gaine! Maltez! Baelin! Gaster! They were counting on him! If they could still be saved . . .

His magic sparked. A violent shock ran through his whole body.

"no!"

He tried again, and his magic fizzled before he could even summon it- the sound of static hissed in his ears.

That swirling in his vision got even worse and his head felt light and incredibly heavy all at once.

He was out of magic. Anything more would drain on the tiny bit of life energy he had . . .

"no, damn it!" He raged, "Not now!"

He cried out, trying a final time to summon a bit of his blue magic. He could use it to sense for the others and pull them out! He was the only one left! It was up to him to save them! He was determined to find them and to bring them back.

There wasn't even static when he tried his magic. Just . . . nothing. A great well of nothing. He couldn't even call on his reserves.

He had no reserves. It was all gone.

They were all gone.

He'd failed . . . every one of them . . .

They had been counting on him . . . and he . . .

He let them . . .

He had to go! He had to distance himself . . . he had to leave . . . he had to get away.

Sans backed away slowly from the scene, the shock still not passing for him. His unstable legs barely carried him backward. He was only just able to focus past the fog clouding his thoughts and his entire body, which was fighting against him with every step.

He had to get out. He had to go . . . somewhere. Away from here. Away from the CORE.

Away from this tomb.

He continued to stumble, turning his back and leaving the room, using the walls as support. He stepped onward, through the doors and out toward the rest of Hotland.

He could let himself fall here. He didn't care. He could give up completely. There was nothing left. No one left. His entire life, his whole family. All of it . . . it was just gone.

No . . . that wasn't true.

What about _him_?

The one who wanted so badly for him to live. The one who went so far as to break the laws of nature to revive him?

"papyrus . . ."

He needed to find Papyrus.

That thought was enough to keep him stumbling onward even when he had no more support and nothing left to guide him. Just knowing that he would find Papyrus gave him a little sliver of hope.

He and Alphys were supposed to be setting up a safe area.

That's right, Alphys was there too.

Man . . . how was he supposed to break the news to them . . . ?

That one thought plagued his thoughts until his tired eyes were able to pick up on a white blur in the distance. In the four-way cross outside of the entrance to the lab, there was a sort of canopy set up. A tarp set erect by poles to create a tent of sorts. Beneath it, were several chairs and a plastic table laden with tools and supplies and food.

And on the ground in front of the table, were little blurs of color. One thin and lanky and very pale, the other, shorter and more stout and very yellow. They lay unmoving on the ground.

"alphys?" Sans muttered, "papyrus!?"

He rushed forward, recognizing the blobs and instantly going into panic mode once again. What happened!? Why had they both been knocked down? _HOW_ had they both been knocked down!?

He couldn't lose them too! Not now! Not after all of this! He just couldn't!

He approached the canopy as quickly as his legs would carry him. He had to get to the others! They had to be okay! He had to make sure they were okay!

He nearly fell when he reached them. He was so spent. His entire body felt as if it could give out on him at any second. But he had to check on his only two remaining friends. Once he was sure they were okay . . . then he could rest.

Alphys was curled on her side as if she'd only fallen asleep. Her glasses were still on and askew and there was something tightly gripped in her hand as if she was afraid she'd lose it. A cell phone . . . but it wasn't hers. Gaster's phone . . .

He must have left it behind when they'd gone back to the CORE. So had she picked it up with hopes of returning it when . . . when he came back?

Oh god . . . how was he going to tell her that Gaster was _never_ coming back . . . ? That no one was ever coming back?

That hole in his chest seemed to pulsate and grow larger while simultaneously trying to constrict and suffocate him. He clutched again at the fabric of his shirt.

It just hurt so damn much!

Gaster had just been so accepting of it all too! How!? Why!? Why had he been _smiling_!? Didn't he know he was about to die!? Did he know how much he was about to hurt Sans? The doctor had lost family before! Didn't he know how this felt!? Didn't he _know_!?

Of course he knew! And he went and died anyway! He _willingly_ fell into the CORE! He had a chance! He had the opportunity! He had Sans! They could have made it together! They could both be here now, checking on Alphys and Papyrus . . . He would've already known what happened to them! He would have already been able to do an analysis on them to determine how they ended up like this . . . He would have made sure they were okay and comfortable already.

And he wouldn't have been this distracted while doing it! He wouldn't have let something like this get in the way of being the doctor he was.

Sans focused again on Alphys, trying to push his previous thought trail off to concentrate fully on her.

She didn't seem to be injured and she didn't seem to be in any kind of pain. It was as if she'd just simply laid down and had gone to sleep. She was still breathing, so that was a good sign at least. But as to how long she would be out, Sans couldn't even begin to speculate.

And then there was Papyrus.

Just a few feet away, Papyrus had fallen face-down as if he had been trying to crawl toward something. He was just as motionless as Alphys and just as unresponsive. His arm was outstretched as he reached for something just ahead.

A clipboard was lying just out of reach.

Stumbling forward, Sans attempted to focus on the thing Papyrus had written on the clip board.

It was a drawing . . . an old one. Sans remembered seeing it a long time ago in those days before Papyrus started on his map of the Underground.

Why was it here now? What could have driven Papyrus to dig it out now of all times.

On the paper, were three figures, quite obviously meant to represent Papyrus' family as he saw it.

In his case, the figures strongly resembled Papyrus himself, and the other two were his brother, Sans, and . . . Doctor Gaster. Even then, Papyrus had been wrestling with the thought of the doctor being his father. And really, he had been correct. In every aspect of his life, past and present, Gaster had always been Papyrus' father figure.

And if Sans was honest with himself . . . the same could be said about him.

Gaster had been the only father he'd ever known. Even before he'd come to the Underground. Even before he'd lost his mother. His memories were very sketchy from around that time. Most of his life, he'd been alone, but at least with his mother, he had a face and the faint memory of a voice.

When he thought about his father . . . there was . . . nothing. He had no one. No face, no voice . . . not even a name.

He had Gaster. He had been the only one who had ever shown any real interest in him or his well-being. He had taken him in and cared for him without a second's hesitation. On several different occasions, he had saved him when he had been so close to death. Gaster had been so much more than a colleague. He had been so much more than a mentor or a teacher or a boss or even a friend.

Gaster . . . had been like a dad to him.

. . . And now . . .

. . . damn it . . . he couldn't see anymore through the blurry and burning tears. They were starting up again. And his throat tightened again as well, to the point it even hurt to breathe. He'd never even had the chance to tell Gaster how much he meant to him! Not even there at the end as he was falling to his death. He couldn't tell him. He couldn't even say the word. Not even once.

Sans looked again at the drawing and back down to the unconscious form of his brother. Again, Sans wondered how he was going to break the news. For Papyrus, though, it was different. Gaster actually _had_ been his father . . . and inside of Papyrus, there was a little boy who would have to endure that pain as well.

Sans reached out to gently touch the top of Papyrus' skull.

"your pops really did love you, you know that?" He whispered to the other, "every day. everything he did, he had you in mind."

There was a slight pull on his mind, a sort of call. It wasn't quite a voice . . . more of a feeling.

" _Not just him."_ It pushed, _"You too."_

Sans shook his head, trying to push back on the thought. How selfish could he be? This wasn't about him. This was about Gaster and everything he'd left behind.

" _Yes, including you. Don't forget, I loved you too."_

Again, Sans gasped, turning his head over his shoulder. Of course there was no one there. There was no one anywhere. What had he been expecting?

But . . . that pull . . . it said . . . " _I_ loved you."

It used the word "I" not "he".

Sans hung his head, the clipboard falling from his fingers.

He'd reached his wit's end. There was nothing more he could give. Nothing more that he could hold back.

Sans broke down completely, not even bothering to cover his face as his raw emotion spilled over once again, more forceful and more furiously than ever.

"dad." He cried. Why the hell would the word come to him _now_! Of all times! When he wasn't even around to hear it! Why couldn't he have said it to him once?

Just once . . .

". . . dad, i'm sorry! i'm so sorry i-i never . . . "

He doubled over on himself, curled in a tightly wound ball.

"you meant so much to me! more than you know . . . more than you ever knew . . . because i didn't mention it . . . you were . . . the most . . . the best a guy like me could ever hope for! and i never told you . . . i didn't say a damned thing . . . and now . . ."

' _You said it now. That's enough.'_

" _now_!? now it's too late!"

Sans fell, but never uncurled himself. He stayed in that position for a long time, unwilling to move. As hopelessness took over, he simply gave in, sobbing seemingly uncontrollably. Unstopping.

He kept telling himself that he needed to rest, however, no matter what he did . . . or didn't do, he couldn't find that kind of calm. As Papyrus and Alphys continued to sleep, Sans remained awake as the guilt of what he'd just survived weighed over him.

That weight seemed tangible and heavy like someone had laid a thick blanket over him.

How silly it was for Sans to think that maybe it could have been him . . .

* * *

When his eyes opened, it was as if he was trying to focus through a fog. Everything was so blurry and out of focus, but Papyrus was determined to make sense of it all.

He'd need to figure it out. Quickly, if he could. Where was he? How had he ended up outside . . . and on the ground? How long had he been asleep? _Why_ had he been asleep?

What was that sound? It sounded like breathing, but somehow, it was short and ragged sounding. There was a shuddering that went along with it. Someone was obviously and audibly upset and trying to calm themselves.

Papyrus squinted in an attempt to focus enough to identify the figure curled next to him. It was another Skeleton! A smaller one . . . who seemed not to be doing very well. He was the one who was breathing so haphazardly.

"Um . . . excuse me." Papyrus began, shifting himself to sit up, "You seem to be very upset. You should take slow and even breaths. It will do wonders for you, I'm sure."

The other Skeleton started for a second, taking the time to refocus his thoughts before he moved again.

"oh . . . p-papyrus . . . you're awake, huh bro?"

Papyrus halted. That name. Yes . . . it was his. That felt about right.

But the other Skeleton . . .

He'd used another name too . . . "bro" that was his too, wasn't it?

"I suppose I am!" Papyrus responded with only the slightest hesitation.

"thank goodness." The other Skeleton sighed, "you had me really worried there for a sec! i-i don't think i could've handled it if . . . well . . . i'm just glad you're back."

"Back . . . ?" Papyrus hummed, "Did I go somewhere?"

It wasn't meant to be funny, and he wasn't trying to sound naïve. It was an honest question. He couldn't remember and he didn't know what was real or what had been imagined.

About all he knew for sure that his name was Papyrus, he had very recently been asleep . . .

. . . and this other Skeleton was still very upset. He had been crying. That's why his breath was so haggard . . . he still had tears staining his face as he tried to situate himself enough to face and converse with Papyrus. His eyes were dark and sunken- even for a Skeleton- and he seemed to be wearing a perpetual smile. That smile, however seemed strained, contrasting starkly with the rest of his troubled expression.

The sight pulled sharply on Papyrus' emotions for some reason. Already, he hated the feeling he got because of it. This Skeleton before him meant a lot to him- he knew that inherently. And he should be smiling genuinely or not at all. That was the rule he'd just come up with.

"i guess you didn't actually _go_ anywhere." He answered in response to Papyrus' question, "you and alphys were out here preparing . . . f-for the others . . . f-for when . . ."

He choked again, immediately turning his face away to hide the new tears. This was obviously something very difficult for him to discuss.

"Did something bad happen?" Papyrus asked in earnest curiosity.

The other Skeleton sighed again in an attempt to calm himself before he answered. Even when he did answer, he was unable to form a complete sentence and instead nodded his answer.

Eventually, he was able to put his thoughts into words ". . . i'm afraid . . . i've got some bad news, paps."

As he spoke, there was more movement off to the side as someone else stirred near them. A small-ish yellow monster shifted. She adjusted her glasses and sat up, trying her voice.

"Ugh, what happened?" She groaned, "How did I . . . Where am I?"

"'mornin' al." The smaller Skeleton answered lifelessly, "actually, you should hear this too. it'll be better to tell you both at once."

This "Al" person flinched at the unexpected voice and she turned to face the other two. When she did, she adjusted her glasses to get a better look at them. Even with her glasses, she still needed to squint to focus properly. Perhaps her vision was clouded like Papyrus' had been when he woke up.

"Oh . . . h-hello." She stammered, nervously, "I don't believe we've . . . d-do we know each other?"

The Skeleton's face instantly fell. "haha, not funny, alphys." He groaned sarcastically, "this is actually really serious. i've got something i need to tell you . . . and it's not gonna be easy to hear."

But when Alphys' expression didn't change from her shock and confusion, the Skeleton's unamused expression did. The look on his face now was somewhere between fear and incredulity.

"you're not joking are you?"

"You _do_ seem familiar." Alphys admitted, "B-but, I'm sorry. Your name has- has slipped my mind."

"c'mon, al! it's me! we've worked together for _years_! you know me!"

"I-I'm terribly sorry." Alphys said again.

The Skeleton shook his head, drawing in another breath. In the next instant, he sat bolt right, a thought shooting through his mind.

"but then . . . what about you?" and he turned toward Papyrus, that same fear in his eyes, "You remember me, don't you? Do you know me?"

Papyrus wanted to answer instantly, to assure him and set his mind at ease for the moment. However, he was unable to do that.

He did know the other Skeleton. He knew him deep within his soul, but like Alphys had said, he didn't remember the other's name.

" _Don't think, Papyrus. Just say it."_

"You're my . . . brother."

The other Skeleton nodded, "yes . . . ?" he prodded.

Papyrus could only shake his head.

The other hung his head again in response, "no . . ." he muttered, "that makes no sense . . . what happened to you guys? how could you possibly have forgotten . . . ? it's me! sans!"

That name! Yes! Papyrus remembered the name! That name he'd called ever since his memories began. The name rang truer to him than even his own name.

"Sans!" Papyrus repeated with such conviction, "Sans the Skeleton! My brother!"

That perked Sans up once again with a tiny glimmer of hope.

"you _do_ remember! papyrus! yes!"

But Alphys shook her head again, "The name does sound familiar . . . but . . ."

"well, what about ruddard? maltez? gaine!?"

Alphys continued to shake her head.

"not even _baelin_!? you two were close! you were friends!"

Alphys shook her head, "Those names d-don't sound familiar at all. Th-this is very troubling."

"heh, you're tellin' me!" Sans scoffed, "well, what about gaster!? the doc? you can't have forgotten him!"

Alphys remained silent, trying very hard to remember. But no matter how hard she tried, nothing came to mind.

Sans turned again toward Papyrus, asking a silent question. Papyrus shook his head in response. That name was completely unfamiliar.

"how!?" Sans snapped, "how could you forget!? he was our _boss_! our mentor! how the hell could you forget him!? that's- that's _his_ phone you have in your hand! papyrus! he was your . . . our . . . y-you _drew_ him right . . . there . . ."

Sans stalled in his accusations, taking another look at the picture as well as the words. By the shift in his expression, something must have clicked into place in his thoughts.

"you knew . . ." he said quietly.

"Knew what?" Alphys questioned.

"you must have _known_! that's why you gave yourselves reminders! you must have felt yourselves beginning to forget . . . so you took precautions. alphys, you grabbed his phone to remind you! and papyrus, you found a picture- you even wrote yourself a note . . . but they didn't work . . ."

"S-sans?" Alphys hummed, "a-are you okay?"

Sans halted again, looking back toward the pathway to the CORE. There were still so many questions! How was it that even through all of their reminders, Alphys and Papyrus both completely forgot about Gaster and the others . . . or was it that Sans was the only one who remembered . . . ? When had they lost their memories . . . were they anything that could be recovered? Papyrus seemed to remember him at least . . . or was he only acting the part to make him feel better? But Alphys still didn't seem to really know who he was.

"Sans . . ."

"no . . ." Sans answered, a defeated air to his tone, "no, i'm not . . . but perhaps . . . it's better this way."

"But what about the difficult and important thing you wanted to tell us?" Papyrus protested.

"it doesn't matter anymore." Sans droned.

"It does matter!" Papyrus pushed, "It matters to _you_! Tell us!"

Sans frowned, struggling in his head to decide if it would be too painful to say out loud.

When he spoke, his voice was pinched.

"if you don't remember them . . . then it's not anything you should worry about."

"Does it have to do with this Gaster fellow and the list of other names?"

Sans groaned, "just drop it, okay? i'll deal with it."

"Not alone, you won't!"

"what does it matter if i do it alone!? it's not gonna change anything if i tell you or if i don't! they're all still gonna be dead whether you remember them or not!"

Papyrus silenced for a moment. Is that why Sans had been crying so heavily? Was he mourning all of those people? By himself?

He wondered who they had been to Sans. It was obvious that he cared very deeply for them.

And according to him, they had once meant a great deal to Papyrus and Alphys as well. Some of them had been friends . . .

Why couldn't he remember them . . . ?

"really, don't worry about it." Sans sighed, "if you don't remember . . . then the news can't hurt you. it's better this way. this way, you don't have to suffer."

"B-but you do!" Alphys chimed in. "And-and really, because we don't remember, you ended up having to-to go through it twice! If we really are friends, we can't let that happen. W-we should be the shoulders for you to lean on . . . s-so as your friend . . . i-if there's anything I can do . . . please tell me."

Sans was slow to lift his eyes, but when he did, the heat drained from his face and from his word, "thanks, al . . . that really does mean a lot to me . . . for now, though . . . i don't even know . . .

Sans looked up past their tent toward the entrance to the lab. What was he supposed to do now!? How was he supposed to go back in there? He didn't think he had that kind of strength.

Once again, he was filled with the overwhelming desire to distance himself. All of it . . . this entire area . . . was just . . . too painful. This had been Gaster's home . . . his home, from a life . . . that didn't exist anymore.

Slowly, Sans pulled himself to his feet, all the while, his gaze never left the front doors of the lab.

"i guess that's it then." He said dully and quietly, "that's really how this is gonna end."

"S-sans . . ."

"alphys. thanks, but i really should . . . get out of here. i just . . ." Sans let out a sigh, "hey, just know that if you need anything, i'll be around. but right now, i gotta . . . i gotta go. papyrus . . . i can't tell you what to do. we're brothers, yeah, but your choice is your choice. you can come with me if you wanna. if not . . . if i'm just gonna bum you out or drag you down . . . you don't hafta."

"And where would I go?" Papyrus protested, pulling himself up to his feet as well, "Like you said, you are my brother and I will not abandon you when you are going through something like this. I am here for you no matter what and I will go where you go!"

Sans hung his head at a loss for words. After a moment or two of silence, he released a short chuckle, "thanks, pap."

"So, where are we going?"

"dunno." Sans shrugged, turning his back on the lab and the life he'd known since he'd come to the Underground. "see ya around, alphys."

"O-oh . . . good-bye Sans . . . Papyrus. Please, t-take care."

* * *

Sans and Papyrus continued to wander through the Underground. But no matter where they stayed, it just didn't feel right to either of them. The only home either of them had ever known had been the Lab . . . but there was no going back there.

They would have to keep looking.

As the days passed, Sans noticed some very troubling occurrences with Papyrus' memories. It was as if every day, they would be wiped clean like a chalkboard. He would go to bed and wake up the next morning with no idea where they were or what happened the day before. Sans would sometimes have to remind him to report for training with Undyne and on extremely bad days, he would even have to remind Papyrus that they were brothers . . . It was very taxing and it would wear heavily on Sans. Was this a lingering effect of . . . whatever had happened to him back at the lab?

He would have to look into it when they found a place and he had more time to devote to studying Papyrus.

Sans did notice, however, the correlation between Papyrus' memories and the distance between them and the lab. It seemed that the further away they were, the more Papyrus could remember.

Sans also took note that the lapses in his memory were less severe when he mentioned Gaster and the others less frequently. So, based on those observations, they would have to get as far away from the lab as possible and Sans would have to refrain from talking about Gaster in order for Papyrus to function normally again.

Vaguely, he wondered if Alphys was going through similar things with her memory.

As the chill filled the surrounding air, Sans settled into his thoughts. This was it. The last inhabitable town before the RUINS. This would have to be it.

"welcome to snowdin, paps." Sans hummed, "this is gonna be our new home from now on, okay? this is where we're gonna live now, okay?"

Papyrus let out a bit of a groan. He'd heard the line several times before and every time, they'd had to pick up and move again because something just didn't feel right.

What made this place so special?

They walked through the town and Sans could pick out some familiar faces. He'd frequented the town while he was still living at the lab, but it didn't seem as if the inhabitants remembered who he was. There were a few double-takes when he'd said hello to the Bear outside of Grillby's or the Rabbits who were out for a walk. And he swore he'd heard one of them mention something about deja-vu.

Well, they had done it before, even if they couldn't remember it.

So, it wasn't just Alphys and Papyrus who couldn't remember . . . It looked like everyone was going through the same thing . . .

The first few nights, Sans and Papyrus got a room at Snowed Inn. The woman running the establishment seemed genuinely excited to have travelers visiting. She was very warm and inviting and she was sure to remind them of her sister's shop next door. While Sans got settled into their room, he encouraged Papyrus to go out and get to know the people of the town. After all, if they were to be living in Snowdin, he would need to be familiar with the village. Papyrus seemed to take this as a sort of challenge. Sans had never sent him out on this sort of mission before. This was a completely new task and Papyrus wasn't about to fail! He spent the rest of the evening introducing himself to just about everyone he saw and he'd even spent about two hours talking to the Shop owner next door.

Meanwhile, during Papyrus' absence, Sans took the opportunity to talk to the Innkeeper. It was the perfect time to test her.

Sans sat on the couch of the front lobby while the Innkeeper straightened up her reception desk.

"It's not often we get travelers who stay with us. Where are you and your brother from?"

Sans shrugged, "eh, kinda all over the place really. it's been getting kinda tiring too. pap's at his wit's end."

"Oh really." She sighed. "That's too bad."

"actually, i was thinkin about making this the last stop. you've got a nice town here. quiet."

"Oh yes!" The Rabbit cheered, "It was one of the first towns established when people started branching out from the RUINS. We're old, but that just means we've withstood the test of time. Not to mention it's a great place for families. Things can get a little too overwhelming in the bigger cities, don't you think? Too many distractions."

Sans nodded, shifting to listen. He got her talking. Good.

"i know what you mean. everyone's always going somewhere and it's almost like they're too busy to even say hello. there's no such thing as relaxing or taking it easy out there."

"Exactly!"

"so . . . you said snowdin was good for families. i noticed there were a bunch of kids here. you got any?"

"Who me!?" The woman squeaked, a faint pink to her ears. She giggled nervously. "Oh . . . well, no- well, that is to say . . . not yet. Maybe someday, perhaps. How about you, stranger?"

Sans chuckled at the idea. "me, a dad? heh, i don't really see that happening . . . ever . . . besides, i've got my hands full with my brother."

"Ah, yes. Well, he's definitely high-spirited."

"i hope he won't be too loud."

"Of course not! It would be a nice change of pace. And he's sure to be popular with the children."

"i think he'd like that. heh- i can just imagine him running around playing monsters and humans with the ice caps and snowdrakes! haha! he'd wanna be the human every time!"

Sans and the innkeeper shared a bit of a laugh, and even though he played the part, Sans' heart just wasn't in it. After all, he did have ulterior motives.

"it's amazing just how comfortably everyone has been able to live here!" Sans commented, "actually, i'm a little surprised the electricity has been able to make it all the way here."

"Well, of course." Said the Rabbit, "We've had electricity here for a good five years now thanks to the CORE."

"right, right, of course." Sans waved, "i just mean that it's crazy to think that one machine is capable of powering up every city and town all across the underground! that takes some insane work!"

"Indeed!" the Innkeeper agreed, "If my sister is correct, it was all created by one man! Doctor . . . doctor . . . oh, what was his name again? It started with a 'C' . . . or a 'T'."

"or a 'g'." Sans corrected.

"That was it! Doctor . . . Glasser or something."

Sans drew in a long breath, trying to hide how quickly his mood was turning sour. This woman didn't deserve it. She had been nothing but sweet and kind to him and Papyrus ever since they arrived.

But _"Doctor Glasser or something"_ was inexcusable.

"actually, it was gaster." Sans droned, "doctor w.d. gaster. he was the royal scientist for almost 30 years."

"Doctor Gaster . . . ? Huh, somehow that seems a little . . . off. Or maybe it's just—"

"or maybe it's exactly right. maybe the one who worked with him for nearly a decade would remember his name when he died . . . even when no one else seems too."

Sans didn't look up to see, but the Rabbit woman's face fell when she realized how drastically Sans' speech and tone had changed. He obviously felt very deeply about this. And this news of the doctor's death was completely unexpected.

"Oh no . . ." She nearly gasped, "I'm so sorry to hear that! Were the two of you close?"

". . . yeah . . ." Sans sighed as he pushed himself to his feet, ready to head back upstairs to the room, "he was like a father to me."

As Sans passed her to head back upstairs, the Innkeeper turned her eyes away.

"I'm so sorry." She repeated.

"it's fine." Sans answered, shoving his hands in his pockets, "if this goes the way i think it will, you won't remember any of this in the morning anyway."

Sans ascended the stairs and closed the door behind him before falling face down onto his side of the bed.

A while later, Papyrus returned with a boisterous air as he flung the door open again.

"Sans! Would you care to explain why the Innkeeper is currently _crying_ downstairs!? Are you upsetting people again!?"

Normally, Sans would have been shocked by the sudden intrusion and it would have jolted him, but this was becoming more of a frequent occurrence from Papyrus to the point that Sans had come to expect it. He didn't even move or turn his head. Instead, he stayed turned away from Papyrus and just stared at the wall.

"yeah," he answered dully, "we got to talkin and—"

"And you felt it necessary to drive her to tears!?"

Sans sighed. Actually, the whole thing was part of Sans' experiment. In the morning would come part two- the part where he checked back with the Innkeeper to see if she remembered anything about their conversation. So, though it was unfortunate that the Rabbit was driven to tears, it actually provided him a valuable reference point.

"eh, it isn't like she's gonna remember any of it tomorrow." Sans groaned, "no one ever does.

Papyrus hesitated at the words, confused. Eventually, however, he shook them off. "Is that any excuse to bully people! How can you expect anyone to like you if you keep doing this! Really! I expect better of you, Sans!"

"lemme guess. now you want me to 'march right down there and apologize to the poor woman' right?"

Again, Papyrus hesitated. Those had been the exact words he had been thinking, "Well . . . if you know what you have to do already, I suggest you get to it!"

Sans hummed at the fresh opportunity that presented itself right then. Perhaps a double experiment was in order. No one ever remembered any conversation having to do with Gaster if his name was mentioned, but Papyrus wouldn't know this . . . because he never remembered either. And at first, Sans had been planning to just casually slip the name into the conversation and erase Papyrus' memory of it as well . . .

But perhaps this was a learning opportunity.

"i'll tell you what. in the morning, we'll go downstairs. _if_ she remembers that i made her cry, i'll apologize. if not, then we carry on as if none of this ever happened."

Papyrus narrowed his eyes at his brother, his behavior striking him as odd. Sans had never been one to play with someone's emotions like that . . . at least as far as he could remember . . . much less, brush them off like that. Even so, the Innkeeper had mentioned that Sans wasn't feeling well- that he was upset and to apologize to him for her. How backward! Shouldn't Sans be the one to apologize to her?

"You know, she's a great lady." Papyrus pressed, "Even though you tore at her emotions, she still cares enough to send something to make _you_ feel better." Papyrus tossed something across the room so it hit Sans in the back of his skull.

Finally, Sans shifted, if only to see what hit him. He didn't move from his position, but he turned his head to see a palm-sized pastry wrapped in plastic. The treat was in the shape of a bunny.

"It's a cinnamon bun." Papyrus explained, "The Innkeeper got them from her sister to give to us. She also said to pass along that she's sorry for our 'loss' for some reason. That she didn't mean to stir up such strong and troubling memories. She said that she wants you to know that she's not heartless and she's not careless enough to forget something like this in one day. She said that Doctor Gaster was truly a monster dedicated to his people, especially if he was able to construct the CORE to make everyone's life just a little more comfortable. And that he deserves to be recognized for his services. It's a shame that he isn't- even if it would be posthumous recognition."

Again, Sans let out a long sigh as he listened to Papyrus' words. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the cinnamon bun. This woman . . . she really did understand. She knew where Sans was coming from on the subject of the doctor and she understood his importance.

Damn it . . .

"okay, fine." Sans answered, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the bed and eventually into a standing position. He shoved a hand in his pocket and grabbed the cinnamon bun with the other. "i admit, she didn't deserve what i did to her . . . but she does deserve an apology while she can remember it. and i . . ." Sans hesitated, looking back to the pastry, "don't deserve this . . . here, papyrus. you can have mine."

As Sans approached, Papyrus shook his head, "Maybe you don't deserve it . . . but you _do_ need it. Don't think I've forgotten about your HP, brother. You need to monitor your health more carefully!"

"fine . . . just- hold onto it for me 'til i get back."

With that, Sans left the room to head downstairs to have a real conversation with the Rabbit. He apologized for the way he acted and he explained to her exactly what was going on and why he was testing her. He told her exactly what happened in the CORE and how Gaster died. He explained that everywhere he went, it was as if no one could remember Gaster at all. And every time he would tell someone about Gaster, they would forget the next day. Not because of who they were as people, but because everything relating to Gaster just erases itself from their memories.

"in a way, it's an opportunity for me too." Sans explained, "i get to talk through this as little or as often as i want . . . and no one remembers it afterward."

"But that does make me wonder." The Innkeeper questioned, "Why hasn't he been erased from your memories too?"

"that's what i'm trying to figure out. was it because i was there when it happened? or because of what i am . . . i dunno, but it looks like i'm the only one who remembers him. not even my brother remembers and gaster was his biological father."

The woman hummed, "That sounds terrible. It must get incredibly lonely . . . and incredibly frustrating."

"yeah . . ."

"Thank you for sharing this with me, Sans." She continued, "I'm glad I could help you at least a little . . . even if I don't remember this conversation in the morning."

"hey," Sans shrugged, "who knows. maybe you'll be the exception."

She wasn't.

When the next morning came around, Sans and Papyrus made their way downstairs where the Innkeeper greeted them with a smile.

"Good morning, boys!" She chirped, "I trust you slept well."

"We sure did!" Papyrus cheered. Due to the conversation he'd had with the Innkeeper before coming to get Sans, his memory of the deal they'd made had been altered as well. It seemed as if any mention of Gaster, regardless of who mentioned him was thoroughly erased.

Sans only shrugged. His night had gone . . . typically. He'd woken up to the sounds of his own cries as he watched Gaster and the others fall to their deaths repeatedly in his dreams. He'd stayed up after that, curled in on himself as he tried to get himself to relax again.

But for the sake of smooth conversation, he was willing to ride the wake of Papyrus' mirth.

"Well that's wonderful!" The Innkeeper smiled. "Do you think you will be staying another night? Or will you be checking out today?"

"actually," Sans stepped in, "i was wondering if maybe you could help us. You see, we've been looking for a place for a while now and we've decided that we wanted to make snowdin our new home. i was wondering- well, we were wondering if you knew any places on the market."

"Actually, now that you mention it." The woman mused, "There's a place right on the edge of town that's been empty for a while now. It's old and probably needs some repairs, but it's a good start. There's water and electricity there!"

"Really?" Papyrus asked, "Electricity in an abandoned house?"

"to tell the truth, it's nice to see that the electricity reaches out all the way here."

"And it's all thanks to the royal scientist!" The Innkeeper informed, "He put in so much effort to make life easier for the rest of us. He was really amazing, wasn't he?"

Sans perked up at that. Perhaps she really did remember! Or if not, there was definitely a lingering impression on her from their conversation the day before! And that was better than nothing . . . better than most.

"he really was!"

* * *

The good thing about living in the place where you work is that you don't have to pay rent. Or at least, Sans didn't while he had been employed in the lab, which meant he'd been able to save the money he earned and set it aside just in case. And it was a great thing he did, or else he never would have been able to afford their house in Snowdin.

On the Innkeeper's recommendation, Sans and Papyrus made their way to the edge of town leading out toward Waterfall. Just as she'd said, there was an old one-story right there as if it had been waiting for them! She was right. It was an old little place, but nothing that the brothers couldn't handle! Maybe they could even expand on it! It would be a project.

"this is it, paps!" Sans nodded as he looked at the place, "home sweet home."

Already, Sans had a few ideas for the place, but he would have to get a handle on it first. He would have to get inside and figure out what the place needed and how it was being supported before he did anything else to it.

Stepping inside, they already could see potential in the little home. A living area and a kitchen! And beyond the living area was a hallway leading into a separate set of rooms. Those could be their bedrooms for the time being. But again, Sans had other ideas. The way this place was built, it could easily be turned into a two story home . . . and this place in the back . . . where the rooms were currently . . . well, it would be nice to have his own work station again. No, he was no longer a scientist by profession, but that didn't mean he still couldn't have projects and- dare he say- hobbies!

Not to mention, it would be _his_ home. His first actual home. Not a squatted area, not a dorm, not a room given to him out of charity. _His_.

"how about you go pick out a room, papyrus?" Sans suggested, "i'm gonna get in contact with the agent in charge of this listing."

The entire process went relatively smoothly, though the real estate agent had some concerns with both Sans and Papyrus being unemployed. To that, Sans had been able to provide the agent the down payment as well as the mortgage on the home for about a year while still retaining enough to make the changes he'd wanted to and be able to live comfortably during that time. He'd never been more glad to have saved his Gs from all the time he'd been living in the lab. It did not slip his mind, however, that he would need to find work and soon if he wanted to maintain this new life. He knew his savings wouldn't last forever and he would need to be able to support himself as well as Papyrus. So while Papyrus was able to continue his Guard training, for which he was not being paid, Sans began to contemplate alternative sources of income.

Within that first year, as Sans and Papyrus attempted to find a regularity and a pattern to their lives, Sans used the time to piece together everything he'd been able to collect during their vagrant phase.

From all the people he'd talked to, it was as if no one was even aware that there had been a team of scientists working in hotland. The name W.D. Gaster had fallen with the man, but more than that, the others had faded from memory as well . . . granted, they weren't as well-known as Gaster, but still _someone_ had to remember them!

They'd had families! They'd had friends! They deserved to know what happened as well, but the problem there was getting in contact with them. To this conundrum, Sans decided to compose and send letters to the families of his all of his coworkers . . . his friends. Surely, they would be missing their relatives.

However, after some time, Sans received a particularly disturbed response. A scathing reply letter from Maltez' brother telling him not to contact him with tasteless prank mail.

" _I don't know how you got this address, but there was never a Fitz Maltez and I don't appreciate this harassment. If this is your idea of some sick joke, you should really reevaluate your life. Please don't contact me again."_

That was it. Reading it made Sans' resolve falter. Even Maltez' _brother_ didn't know the name . . . but hadn't the two of them made dinner plans just a couple of weeks ago?

Perhaps it was the same as it had been with Alphys and Papyrus. Neither one of them seemed to have any memory of the others who had lost their lives that day . . . Not one of them. And it seemed as if the amnesia surrounding those names was widespread.

So . . . he really was the only one left . . . the last of the team who could remember a time when there _was_ a team.

Perhaps . . . it really was . . . for the better. Perhaps, having their friends and their families spared having to deal with all of that pain was worth it . . . even if he was the one who had been burdened with carrying it.

Sans shook his head free of the troubling thoughts. No! There had to be something more he could do! He wasn't able to save them, no . . . he'd been too weak. But wasn't there anything he could do!?

The thought weighed on him for quite a while.

Until, one day, when Papyrus left for his training, briefly mentioning how little things have changed since they moved in. Sans had to admit, he had a point. So far, they had been able to take mattresses and various items from the dump to live on. They had a cooking pot and a refrigerator, but no couch or any real furniture. He could take the time to build it himself, but with all of the renovations he'd been planning (now getting the plans to paper) he thought it would be nice not to have to build those things from scratch.

There was one place he knew he could find what they needed and it would come easily . . . from a source no one seemed to remember.

But the question was: would he have the strength to retrieve them?

Pushing aside his plans, Sans made his way once again through the Underground toward the very last place he wanted to be.

In the crossroads at Hotland, he seemed to freeze as he looked upon the place again for the first time in months.

The lab seemed to have been deserted since that day and everything inside was dark. It looked as if the lights hadn't even been turned on during the time they were away.

The only evidence there was that anyone had been in the area at all was a sign taped to the entrance door.

Slowly, Sans approached, apprehensive to what the sign could possibly be about. When he was close enough to see, his expression fell.

"figures . . ." he scoffed.

The sign read:

" _Royal Scientist needed for special projects! Do you have what it takes? To be considered for this exciting opportunity, submit your application and a sample of your work to Captain Undyne of the Royal Guard. All submissions will be reviewed by King Asgore."_

So . . . the King was looking for a new Royal Scientist already . . . as if Gaster's death meant nothing more than just an empty spot where now there was a lack of productivity. As if everything Gaster meant to this place . . . everything his team had done for everyone . . . it was as if none of it mattered at all!

Sans clenched his jaw, and his hands, and his eyes against the sign. How dare they just push it all aside!? If only they looked _inside_ the lab, they'd see all of the work they'd been doing! They'd know just how dedicated this team had been! They'd know . . . just how great they really were . . .

If _he_ could just look inside . . . he would see everything they'd left behind . . . if he went inside, it would be as if none of it had ever happened, like he could step through a portal- through time- and be back in those times.

If _he_ put in an application . . . if he put _his_ name in the pot as the potential next Royal Scientist, he could pick up right where they left off. He could continue their work. He knew the job and he knew where their projects were headed. If _he_ got the job . . . then it would reduce the risk of someone else completely screwing everything up. Plus, it would give him steady employment that paid well and would ensure his and Papyrus' comfort. It was actually a pretty sweet deal. And not only was he qualified for the position, but if he took over . . . he would know exactly where to start and how to keep the place going . . . he could hire a new team and run the place in Gaster's stead . . . the way _he_ would have wanted . . .

Doctor Comic Sans Serif . . .

Sans shook his head vigorously at the thought, trying to rid his mind of it all. Yes . . . he _could_ do all that, but if he did, wouldn't he be just like those people he'd just been repulsed by? The ones who just wanted to replace Gaster like he never existed?

Even if that wasn't the case, it just would have been wrong to even consider taking Gaster's place. In fact, he didn't like the idea of _anyone_ taking Gaster's place.

There was only one Gaster . . . and he was gone . . . there was no going back . . .

. . .

. . .

. . .

Or was there?

A thought crossed Sans' mind, stemmed from the idea of crossing the doors into some sort of portal. About the idea of going back in time to a place where Gaster and the others were still alive . . .

Gaster, in his free time, as one of his side hobbies, had been dabbling in theoretical physics. Space, time and different planes of existence. Alternate universes, dimensions, and realities . . . Though, at first, it had been a guilty pleasure and completely for fun, Gaster had mentioned once or twice in passing that some of the theories were not quite as farfetched as people had been led to believe, especially if one were to add magic into the equations. With the addition of magic . . . there were untold possibilities!

In short, there might actually be a way to go back. Or rather . . . to bring the others back! To get everything he'd lost back! To reclaim his life!

And it all started here! No, he wouldn't put his name in for the running, but he could still conduct his own research without the limitations and deadlines and pressures the title of being the Royal Scientist entailed.

There was a pulsing in his chest he hadn't experienced in what felt like a lifetime . . . he was excited! He had a plan and a purpose again!

He had a goal!

But to get started on that, he had to get his workspace in Snowdin up and running. And to do that, he needed to get the stuff from here and finish up the living areas.

In order to do that . . . he needed to enter the Lab . . .

Then why couldn't Sans bring himself to open the door?

His hands trembled as he reached out for the handle and that same excited pulsing in his chest tightened and refused to beat. His breath caught as flashes of memory shot through Sans' mind.

He was frozen in his spot, unable to move forward. And he was afraid that if he touched the door, he would break down completely.

Maybe he couldn't do this at all . . . maybe he had overestimated his strength . . .

Damn it . . . Damn it!

Again, the sting in his eyes came to haunt him, threatening to take action against that resolve he'd been fighting to build and already, he could feel the welling of tears.

No! He came for a reason! He would see it through! He wouldn't be beaten down again by his own guilt!

He grabbed at the handle and a shudder ran through him. A few steadying breaths. That's all he needed.

"you can do this, sansing." He whispered his grip tightening as if on a lifeline.

It was as if the door and everything about the place was grabbing back at him as tightly as he was gripping the handle. It held on to his soul and he found it steadily more difficult to breathe. The memories and the implications of the place completely overwhelmed him in an instant.

"just close your eyes and do it!"

He forced himself to breathe, trying to keep it even . . . though he wasn't able to keep it deep. Shallow breaths would have to do.

He kept his eyes shut tightly as he pulled the inner latch of the handle and opened the door.

"this is it."

With his eyes still shut, Sans stepped through the threshold and stood just beyond the entrance until the heavy door clamored shut behind him.

As he continued to force himself to breathe, already the smell of this place triggered so many memories. It was as if he could hear them. All of them in passing conversation walking past, heading toward their next project. Maltez making a poor and awkward pass at Baelin. Baelin brushing it off with a bit of a giggle. Ruddard's encouragement after she'd left and Gaine's scoffing at the whole thing. Gaster handing out assignments and the slight groans as the others thought about just how they were going to be able to pull off such tasks. Even Gaster's slight chuckle. He'd had absolute faith in his team and he knew that each and every one of them would be able to rise to every challenge.

Fighting off a shuddering breath, Sans slowly opened his eyes to the dark room. Seeing it again, even in the dark, was enough of a window for even more memories to consume him and his thoughts.

Over against the far wall had been Sans' "office" when he'd first started at the lab as Gaster's administrative assistant. And where he'd first been offered the job as lab assistant.

Over by the left-most wall had been when he'd argued with Gaine . . . and perhaps what triggered the other's extreme dislike for him. It was also where he and Papyrus had gone through the box of Gaster's son's old things. Knowing now what he did about Papyrus, it did make sense why he had been a bit hesitant about giving those things away. Sans wondered if Papyrus remembered anything about his past life . . . what would those things would mean to him now, if anything at all?

And just a few feet ahead of him had been where Papyrus had collapsed after carrying the first human child here. Though Papyrus couldn't speak at the time, he had insisted they bring the child with them. Again, knowing a bit more about Papyrus' origins, Sans was convinced he'd thought the doctor would be able to revive the kid, like he'd been revived.

Like Sans himself had been revived.

Swallowing past the sentiment and the hesitation, Sans fought to steel himself and focus on why he was there. Somehow, he had to ignore all of the feelings and memories associated with the lab. They were his past now . . . nothing more.

"what the hell am i doing here?" Sans asked himself, hissing through his teeth. "i have no business here . . . this place . . . is torture . . . why did i think i could do this!?"

Again, he could hear Gaster's chuckle in the back of his mind. He could sense his encouragement. His unending belief. Sans closed his eyes again and against his own doubt, he could feel a hand on his shoulder.

"i'll get you back, doc." Sans hummed, "i'll get you all back . . . they'll all remember you . . . that's my new assignment. it's the least i could do for you . . . after everything you've done for me."

The hand on his shoulder seemed to tighten . . . he knew it was all in his imagination, but it was still a bit of comfort in his mind.

If anything, it did give him the encouragement he needed to take another step forward.

Until he was successful in his mission, he would have to be the one to carry on their memories. He would have to be the one who kept them alive.

And just like that, Sans' purpose for coming to the Lab changed. Yes, he was there to get supplies . . . and Gaster's couch . . . but it was so much more than that now, he was there to preserve the memories of his team.

Sans continued into his former home.

It took a few hours and every last ounce of nerve, patience, and composure he could accumulate, but he was able to walk through and collect things that reminded him of his team. By the end of it, Sans had collected one of Maltez' favorite pens which had been attached to a lanyard, one of Baelin's favorite bows, and Ruddard's book of inspirational quotes.

And Gaine . . . well, Gaine kept his work area impeccably clean with only the most absolute necessities. It didn't seem that he kept anything that wasn't strictly related to work.

There was one thing. In the top drawer of his storage locker, there was a small card with a photo of a family, all smiling as they waved toward the camera. It was a Giftmas card of four other Cat monsters. Man, Woman, and two small children. One of the children still seemed too small to let stand on his own and he even seemed to have just come off of a fit of some sort. His eyes were still teary. His fur was puffy and very soft looking- and very orange.

"Merry Giftmas, Uncle Aldrin!" was written in gold ink near the bottom of the photo.

Sans had stood there with the photo for a few good minutes looking over the faces. It was a completely different side of Gaine that he'd never seen. He _never_ talked about his family . . . a brother and a sister in law, a niece and a nephew.

And he cared enough about them to have a photo of them here in a place where he had absolutely nothing else even remotely related to home.

Sans debated with himself, something just didn't seem right about taking the photo . . . it was too personal.

But it was the only thing of him left in this place . . .

In the end, he put the card inside of Ruddard's book and continued onward.

Eventually, Sans found himself outside of Gaster's room- his final stop, even after visiting his own bedroom and Papyrus'- only stopping to pick up Papyrus' favorite bedtime story.

As he stood before Gaster's room, that heavy feeling returned and Sans could feel it in his legs as if someone had filled his bones with lead, preventing any further movement.

The first time he'd stepped foot in this room had been after Gaster's experiments with the blue soul, when he'd nearly caused the entire wing to explode . . . and he'd very nearly killed himself in that explosion.

It was the first time Sans had been faced with the very real thought that he could possibly lose Gaster. The thought had terrified him before . . . and now that it was a reality . . .

Again, Sans had to pull himself back, lowering his head to shake the thoughts from his skull.

This had been Sans' entire reason for coming in the first place. He knew from the very beginning that he would eventually have to make his way here.

But still, nothing could prepare him for this feeling.

The utter uselessness. The sinking feeling of being completely powerless in the face of reality and knowing that he was about to come face-to-face with his own shortcomings and his own failures. With the others, yes it had been difficult, but this time . . .

He reached forward and, trying not to think too much more on it for fear of completely debilitating himself, he pushed the door opened.

Again, the first thing that came to him was the familiar scent, having spent nearly every day with the doctor, he hadn't noticed it much. However, after so long without that presence, returning to the smell of this office and the faint scent of ozone that permeated it . . .

It was almost physically painful . . .

Not that long ago, Gaster had been in this very room, very busy with work and very tired, doubtless, but still very much alive! The room still looked as if the doctor could return to it at any second. A spare pair of shoes lined the wall along with a coat. The file cabinet had a drawer that was only partially closed as if he'd been rummaging through the contents recently. There was even a book that lay open on the coffee table beside an empty and coffee-stained cup. He hadn't even had the chance to wash it . . .

Doubtless, Gaster had been sitting here on the couch as he read and drank his coffee. Perhaps he would have even been doing a brain teaser or a puzzle in any downtime he found. It was the same couch Sans had fallen asleep on that day he'd come to visit the doctor after his accident. The doctor had smiled and allowed him to rest because he "looked like he needed it."

Sans laid a soft hand atop the back of the couch as the memories scrolled by like a movie reel at an old cinema. This had been the day's top priority- to retrieve this couch. He placed the items he collected on one of the cushions and took a look around the surrounding area. To everything that was left of the doctor's life.

Across from the couch and past the coffee table was Gaster's large desk, upon which were scattered papers and objects. Approaching the desk, Sans drew in another long breath, releasing it only after he was certain his legs could carry him without giving out.

In his final moments before going to the CORE, Gaster's mind had been in turmoil. Sans could tell by the state of complete disarray the desk was in. Gaster usually had a system going when he worked on something challenging - even if it was more of an organized clutter. Sans had learned to decipher Gaster's line of thinking . . . but this- this natural disaster of a work space was Gaster at his most frustrated and his most torn.

It was more a pile than anything else and as Sans pushed through the thin layer of dust that had settled in over the area, he began to skim over the pages. Soon, he was able to find the common theme linking everything together.

Him . . .

Charts and graphs from past CHECKS, Sans' old reports and findings on various projects, his old name badge and key card which he'd surrendered when he'd been suspended, a note from Alphys expressing her concern for him, that maybe something might not be right with his health.

Mixed in, were specifications and configurative settings for the DT EXTRACTION MACHINE. Formulae for how much energy the machine would use and how much it could extract- notes on how to make the process safer and to install an alarm system so it would alert him if the subject was in any mortal danger.

Gaster had been debating. He had been trying to decide whether or not to go through with the idea of using Sans as a test subject for the machine. He was trying to predetermine how much Sans would be able to take before taking him to the machine at all. But everything he had was purely conjecture . . . he needed a trial run before he could make final modifications, before they could do any real tests.

He really had thought of just about everything before they'd gone down there. He knew they were just doing the bare minimum. There was absolutely no room for error and he had been in complete control.

Until everything had gone to Hell . . .

Over to the side of the desk, nearly covered in other papers and dust, was the slight shine of a glossed paper . . . another photo.

The photo of all of them . . . taken even before Kit had arrived. It was old, but he could see all the faces just as clearly as if they were all standing there in front of him. They were all wearing such bright smiles . . . even Gaster. Even Sans' own smile seemed foreign to him. He hadn't smiled like that since.

It was probably the happiest he'd ever been. It had been the first time he'd ever felt like he had a real family . . . even his friends on the surface hadn't felt as close as these monsters had.

Flipping the photo over in his fingers, Sans noticed something written on the back; something in Gaster's nearly illegible scrawl.

"#3. He seems happy"

Sans' jaw would have dropped if he had any control over it anymore. Even back then . . . so early into their time together, Gaster had been studying him . . . and more recently, Sans had discovered just why Gaster had been counting . . .

So this had been genuine smile number 3, huh . . . ?

Sans' expression turned fond, a bit sad, and even slightly embarrassed as he studied the picture; it was almost like he'd stumbled across old childhood photos . . .

. . . the kind parents would keep . . .

Sans' eyes glued to Gaster then as the doctor smiled back at the camera. Damn it . . . there should have been something more he could have done. If he had, maybe then Gaster would be . . .

Gaster would be . . .

Wiping quickly at his eyes, Sans added the photo to his list of things to add to the pile on the couch. Surely, there were some other things he could take- projects he could finish for Gaster- things the doctor hadn't been able to get to!

Maybe he could find some way to help in his notes! In his incomplete projects! There had to be some way to help!

There was a part of Sans that wanted to take everything. All of the notes and all of the papers. All of the folders and all of the blueprints . . . but he knew that was impossible. Still, the feeling was strong.

Sans did, however, take a few books from the shelves behind the desk, including books on quantum theory and theoretical physics, even a couple of Gaster's Sci-fi novels . . . he had a feeling he'd be needing them in the near future.

He also took a large three-ringed-binder full of Gaster's plans and blueprints. Most of them were written in wingdings, but he could continue to study the language and decipher it so he could at least attempt to utilize one of these plans.

It was the least he could do.

Sans placed all of the things he collected with the other things on the couch and sat on the arm, resigning himself to call it quits. He was faced with yet another dilemma . . .

The task of getting all of this stuff back to Snowdin.

He let out a long breath and a low hum as he thought it over. There was absolutely no way he could carry all of this himself- even if he'd thought to bring something to cart all of it around. Not only that, but the day had been long and harrowing and Sans was beginning to run low on his energy and composure. Even if he took all of the things he collected first and came back for the couch, he doubted he would been able to handle multiple trips back to this place.

He could call Papyrus and ask him to help maybe . . . but that meant the two of them would have to carry the couch and all of the stuff through the Underground in order to get back home . . . and risk getting a million and fifty-six questions. He didn't think he had the strength or the patience to deal with all of that.

Blue magic was not out of the question . . . but again, there was that carrying everything through the Underground thing . . . plus the drain on the rest of his energy.

. . . maybe he shouldn't risk it.

Sans leaned his head against the backrest of the couch and let his eyes shut as he thought it over again. It was way too far and it would take way too long. It was be so much easier and less stressful if he could just . . .

Before Sans could think the rest of his thought, his entire being went numb for a second, as if everything had shut off all at once and then suddenly turned on again. At the shock, his eyes shot open once again. When he looked around, he was shocked to find himself back in his living room in Snowdin. Blinking out of his mesmerized state, he did a double and triple take to make sure he was in the right mind.

Slowly, to make sure he was stable, Sans pushed himself off of the couch and onto his feet . . . Even Gaster's coffee table had made its way back with them . . . he'd only been considering bringing it, but hadn't really committed to it.

How the heck . . . ?

The air here felt different too it wasn't quite as dusty or as . . . was there a better word than "stale"? The lighting was better and it didn't feel nearly as dreary.

He really was back.

Shuffling to avoid stumbling over his own feet, Sans walked to the front door, noting the completely different carpet as he traveled. He even opened the door and chanced a look outside.

Snow . . .

. . . but how did . . . ?

Had he just . . . teleported . . . all the way to Snowdin . . .?

But how had he managed to do that . . . maybe it was a Skeleton thing . . . ? After all, he was still trying to get used to his own body . . . it'd been a little while since they left the lab, but still, Sans was learning more about himself and about being a monster every day. But no, it couldn't have just been a Skeleton thing, because then Papyrus would have shown signs of it as well . . . the only other person he knew who could teleport had been Gaster . . .

And right before . . . before he . . . before he fell. He'd given Sans a tiny bit of his magic . . . magic that had teleported him to safety . . .

He thought it was just a one-time-thing. Something that Gaster did to make sure he got out safely . . . he had no idea . . . Had Gaster actually . . . _given_ him the ability . . . ?

Gaster . . . ? Could he even do that . . . ?

Sans thought it better to drop the idea there for a moment. Papyrus was coming back, finished with his training for the day. He would probably ask about where the couch and the table had come from.

He should probably come up with a reason that didn't mention the lab or Gaster or the thought that he'd passed on some of his power to him.

Instead, Sans just waved as Papyrus approached.

"hey bro!" he greeted, "welcome home!"

* * *

Seventeen . . .

Because of his fuzzy sense of time, he knew he had been wandering this nothing for a long time, but he could not figure just how long. Over and over again, the number "seventeen" came to him and would not leave him be. Had it been seventeen minutes, hours, weeks . . .

. . . seventeen years . . . decades . . . millennia . . . ?

Just seventeen . . . that's all he had.

So he kept to it.

He knew one thing. He had to keep moving or risk being devoured. The darkness here . . . it was alive. Seeking, searching for any light any warmth. Like a candle.

A flashlight.

A soul.

That feeling meant something. That fear he felt permeating his entire being. It was a good thing.

It meant he was alive.

Though, without knowing where he was, there was no way of knowing where he was going.

Time and time again, he would look downward to his hand. The one he still had. And materialize a second to make a matched set. Holed and curled as if they were unable to stretch out anymore.

The splintering cracks had since smoothed over . . . but only because the rest of him was so . . . unstable.

It was as if his entire body was melting. Like it kept trying to fall apart, but something inside of him wouldn't let him turn to dust. Something was keeping him alive even in a place like this.

It was as if he was determined to keep living no matter what. And he had a feeling that the voracious darkness was somehow attracted to that tenacity. It seemed to seek him out and try to attach itself to him- make him part of its mass. Take him over completely.

So he had to keep moving.

He had to admit, after wandering through the nothing for so long, there were many things he missed. Things he longed for.

Rest.

Companionship.

Productivity.

He'd had none of these things since that day- since he'd fallen in.

He knew that what he'd done, he'd done to save them. He needed to save Sans, Papyrus, and Alphys at any cost. And he'd known that even if he had survived, he wouldn't have had long to live. He had already been falling apart, crumbling away . . . he would have been dust within days if not hours.

He had made the right choice . . . but then why was _this_ his new reality? How had he ended up _here_?

Where _was_ here?

And now that he was no longer in danger of turning to dust . . . dare he try to find a way back . . . ?

How could he go back after this? How could he try to return?

Because he wanted to set things right. He wanted to apologize to the others for their pain and their suffering, for his follies.

But that still left the _how._

For a moment, he halted to take a look up . . . at least he _thought_ it was "up".

Sometimes, there were twinkling lights up there, like stars shining. With those stars came thoughts and sometimes sounds, sometimes feelings and emotions. Sometimes, it felt more like a channel than anything else.

A way to listen in and respond if he could.

If he happened to hear anything at all.

If he happened to be looking up while it was happening.

The lights would only appear every once in a while and only for a few seconds at a time before the darkness stretched over them again and drown him in perpetual nothingness. For a while, he'd been wondering, however if it was at all possible to get information out. If he was getting sounds and lights from the other side, could he send some from where he was?

It was worth a try. And he would try the very next time there were stars.

And as he halted, there was a pinprick- a tiny white dot far in the distance! A single star!

Now was his chance! He would only have a few seconds to communicate before it was covered again!

He would leave a message . . .

Something he knew they would be able to decipher. The last two from his team. Sans and Alphys! If anyone could help him figure this out, it would be the two of them.

But they would need each other.

Still, he had to try . . .

He focused his force intently on that single star and spoke as if making a wish. It was the fist time he'd used his voice since he'd been traveling this place. It was hoarse and dry.

"ENTRY NUMBER SEVENTEEN"

(It was how he always started his entries, with a time. Usually it was a date, day and year. In this case, he only had that one number. With any luck, they would recognize this as his.)

"DARK DARKER YET DARKER"

(A literal description of his surroundings and how he'd gotten to this point.)

"THE DARKNESS KEEPS GROWING"

(The foreboding feeling and fear associated with this place)

"THE SHADOWS CUTTING DEEPER"

("I am in danger")

PHOTON READINGS NEGATIVE

("However, I am still alive")

"THIS NEXT EXPERIMENT  
SEEMS  
VERY  
VERY  
INTERESTING"

("It will take a lot of work and I am unsure it will amount to anything at all")

"WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK?"

("Together, there may be a chance. I believe in you.")

In that moment, the star flickered out of existence . . . his opportunity gone. Not only that, but there was a sinking feeling to his feet. The darkness was back, trying to trap him and pull him under, it was always subtle at first, trying to lull him into a false sense of security before actively and aggressively trying to pull him under.

He had to get moving.

* * *

Sans sat straight up in bed, having woken himself from yet another nightmare. Again, there was a pull at the back of his thoughts. Something that would not leave him alone or let him rest. It was insistent and pestering, bringing up his past repeatedly and asking him- no- more like demanding him to focus.

The pull had been a familiar one.

" . . . gaster . . . ?"

He hadn't said the name aloud for almost seventeen years, but the moment it left his mouth, the feeling washed over him. It pulled at him and dragged him into action, even against his initial thoughts and feelings.

Gaster was calling him. Gaster needed him.

Of course it could have been the lingering effects of the nightmare . . . but this felt different somehow! This felt more real.

Tangible.

From the desk against the wall, something fell even though no one had moved. There was no wind and it didn't feel like there had been a quake at all.

When Sans shifted his attention, he saw that it had been Gaster's books that had been piled atop the desk. They were now all spilled across the floor.

How had something like that pile been knocked over by nothing at all? And then, there was the fact that this had not been the first time it'd happened . . .

Either Sans was finally completely losing it . . . or . . . it was some kind of sign. An omen, perhaps.

Oh well, nothing left to lose . . . may as well check it out.

Sans shuffled out of bed and gazed again at the photo that had fallen at the top of the pile. Gaster looked up at him with a smile as did the other assistants.

"really . . . ?"

He checked the time: 4:30am . . .

"geez, doc. just couldn't let a guy sleep, could you? okay, if you insist."

With another step forward, Sans transported himself directly into the room in the back of the house. He'd been able to convert it into his own personal workspace just like he'd planned, but so far, his projects hadn't amounted to much . . . mainly because he couldn't decide where to begin.

He had, however, been working quite a bit on his wingdings. He was steadily becoming more proficient in deciphering the symbols.

With the thought in his mind, he pulled out the large three-ringed-binder with Gaster's blueprints. He placed them on the counter with a bit of a resolved sigh.

"alright doc. you got my attention. i'm listening. what should i do?"


	22. Epilogue: Snowy

_**Epilogue**_

 _ **Snowy**_

Years passed, decades. A century. Longer. Sans was old. Older than he ever thought he would be. It was amazing, but it didn't even feel like it. Or, rather, some days it didn't feel much like it at all. Some days, it felt like he should be up, getting ready for another day at work. Twenty-four years old and eager to make a difference. On other days, however . . . on most days . . . days like today, the years all seemed to catch up to him, crashing down on him all at once.

On those days, he preferred to be alone, just wandering the forest to clear his mind. He needed the quiet to sort out his own thoughts and to contemplate where he was headed. He thought a lot back to those days and to everyone he'd known before. So much had happened, but at the same time, since that day, nothing had changed at all. The Underground carried on, everyone lived, loved, learned and laughed.

Their memories faded. They all forgot.

But not Sans. He remembered them all. Every single one of them. He could see their faces so clearly and he could hear their voices as if they were walking right beside him.

Ava,

Kit,

Gaine,

Maltez,

Ruddard,

Baelin,

. . . Gaster . . .

In his memory, he kept them alive. And it seemed to be the only place they would be.

It was around that time that Sans adopted a new policy: he would never become too attached to anyone ever again. Even if he was no longer bound by the curse of the humans who trapped him down here, he still saw himself as a cursed man. There was no way around it, everyone he'd ever cared for- everyone he'd ever loved- had died or they had been killed. And they'd all been forgotten . . . Every one of them.

So, to protect them, and to protect himself from suffering that same pain, he resigned to keep them all at arm's length, refusing to let anyone get too close for fear of losing them just like he'd lost every single other person he'd ever cared for.

The only exceptions were Papyrus and Alphys . . .

Though, Alphys had no idea who he was anymore. The one linking them together had been Gaster and if Alphys didn't remember Gaster . . . then there was no way she would remember him. The two became strangers ever since that day he left the lab behind.

So that left Papyrus. And even with him, there were strict boundaries.

Still, he'd made a resolution. Where he'd failed to protect the others, he would protect Papyrus with his life. He wouldn't fail again. He couldn't afford to let anything like what happened before ever happen again . . . not to Papyrus.

Papyrus would live . . . Papyrus would never be forgotten . . .

Like all the others had been . . .

Sans still resented the other monsters a bit. How could they all forget about the team of scientists who had been working so hard for them? Who had been trying to find a way to break the barrier for them?

Since then, the king had interviewed around for a new Royal Scientist . . . and still, a part of Sans had to wonder if the king had even bothered to look for the old one? Did he even remember he had one before or all of the progress he'd made?

When Alphys was hired, however, Sans was able to breathe a small sigh of relief. Alphys would be great . . . really, she was the only one Sans would have been okay with taking the position. The king made a good choice.

And that left Sans to take care of Papyrus. He'd made a promise after all . . . not that he wouldn't have done it anyway.

Papyrus . . .

He didn't seem to remember anything about that time either. Anything having to do with the doctor or his life in the lab had been completely erased. His earliest memories started as they were making their way to Snowdin. Anything before that time . . . it was just gone.

That discovery had its own list of pros and cons. On one hand, even Papyrus had forgotten about them, about everyone and everything that had happened. He'd forgotten about the doctor . . . about living together in the lab and about the others. Aside from Sans and Alphys, Papyrus had been the closest to all of that.

He didn't even seem to remember being able to speak wingdings. There was an instance when Papyrus had caught Sans trying his hand at the strange language. Granted, Sans didn't have the best pronunciation and his accent was all off, but Papyrus had always been there before to correct him and to aid him. These days, Papyrus would only hum and comment about how he couldn't see how Sans could get anything done with all of his "nonsensical gibberish" and his "odd symbols".

So Sans studied alone.

That was one for the "cons" list.

But, on the other hand, in the "pros" category, _because_ Papyrus couldn't remember those times, he had the opportunity to start over. He had no memory of what he was or the experiments that created him. He no longer had the burden or the stigma of the circumstances of his existence. He no longer carried the guilt or shame of what happened to Kit.

For all he knew, for all anyone knew, he was just another monster. Another Skeleton. His brother.

He was free to live his life as _he_ wanted.

As for Sans' experiments. In the beginning, he'd had absolutely no direction and had no idea where to begin, but after a helpful nudge in the right direction, one he liked to think might have been the doctor, he had found the foundation of his theory. In Gaster's notes, he'd posed a question around which his entire theory had been based: Is it possible to go back and fix a single mistake?

Perhaps the doctor had been speaking from a place of guilt. Maybe it was something having to do with his son or his wife, but Gaster had been studying lines of time and the progression of cause to effect. He'd been flirting with the idea of being able to create a separate bridge to a specific point in one's timeline in order to fix past mistakes.

He had even drawn up blueprints for a machine that could, in theory, read the timelines of an individual. Sans' plan had been to build this time machine and modify it once he completely understood how it worked. The idea had been to read each person's timeline, perhaps using the items that he'd collected from the Lab as a starting point or perhaps an anchor to the present. His ultimate goal was to re-purpose the machine to not only _read_ through each of the separate timelines, but to actually open them . . . perhaps pull something from them . . . or some _one_. He was so convinced that this machine was the key to saving them! He wouldn't go back so far as to mess anything up they had already accomplished, but snatch them from the point right before they fell. Save them from the CORE and bring them back. If he could get this machine up and running, it could be possible! He could make it happen! With Gaster's notes along with his own input . . . . He could do it!

That had been decades ago when he'd first started the trials and experiments. When he'd built the machine following Gaster's blueprints and he'd tried to pinpoint spots in his own timeline where he could have saved the doctor and the others . . .

But so far, every single one of his experiments ended in failure or in no response.

There had been once or twice where he'd nearly destroyed everything attempting to open a portal to enter someone's timeline. There had been a few accidents where the machine malfunctioned and had nearly blown the entire room up and him along with it. Luckily, he had been able to avert those catastrophes by sealing the portals and shutting off the machine, but not without a few _extremely_ close calls.

Then, later along the road, with the frustration and irritation of not getting any usable results to help him improve the machine further, Sans had come to the brink of destroying all of it himself- smashing the machine and tearing down his lab.

 _"I've already come to terms with this,"_ said a familiar voice pulling at the corners of Sans' memories, _"_ _I need you to as well. For me. Can you do that for me, Sans?"_

With his hand outstretched and his blaster ready to fire, Sans hesitated and his hand began to tremble.

Gaster had already said his goodbyes . . . He'd already resigned himself to his fate. He'd known he'd been dying for quite a while and he was ready for the end.

If Sans brought him back now . . .

He'd lowered his hand, and clenched it to his side, the hot tears flowing from his sockets once again. In his frustration, he released a resounding cry as a thought came to him.

Maybe . . . there really was no going back to those times. As often as he tried, (and on his eager days, he still kept trying) he wrestled with the thought that perhaps he was only wasting his time. Maybe nothing would ever come of it. And that even if he had succeeded, nothing would have changed. If he continued beyond that point, he would only be doing it for selfish reasons. It wouldn't have been for _them_ anymore.

So, on that particularly bad day, instead of destroying everything, Sans covered up the broken machine and stowed all of the evidence away in drawers. The blueprints written in Gaster's handwriting, the photos they'd taken so long ago . . . the only thing he had left of them. Papyrus' old drawing of his "family" His old name badge from the lab . . . he shut them all away and locked the door. Maybe, there was no point in trying to go back. They were gone. That life was behind him. He just had to focus on that and keep moving. After so long, he would finally have to lay the whole project and all of his colleagues to rest. He would try to pick up the pieces and continue to live his own life.

That's what Gaster had wanted. That had been his final request.

And after so long of defying him, the least Sans could do was try.

The snow fell silently as Sans blinked himself back into the present. He hadn't been able to focus all day and he was starting to feel drowsy.

It was another one of those days . . . the days when the last hundred or so years seemed to crash over him all at once. He was feeling suffocated and anxious. He needed to clear his head. He needed to get away. He needed a distraction, somewhere to calm down.

He supposed he could go _there_. No one ever went that way and he'd be free to unwind.

He looked down again at the counter of his station and drummed his fingers in contemplation.

Eh, no one would miss him if he slipped away for just a little bit. He'd be back . . . eventually.

* * *

Papyrus was busy being very diligent indeed. Undyne had entrusted him in keeping patrol in Snowdin. After all, there was just no telling when another human would fall and if that ever did happen, it was his solemn duty to capture said human and report them to Undyne immediately. It was an important job and if he was successful in his task, then perhaps Undyne would let him join the Royal Guard for real!

Papyrus was also in charge of keeping a close eye on Sans. Sans was his patrol partner and manned the sentry station near the edge of the forest, but where Papyrus had the aspiration of making it into the Royal Guard and becoming the Underground's most popular Skeleton, it seemed Sans had no aspiration whatsoever. On several separate occasions, Papyrus made his rounds only to find that Sans was snoozing on the job or he wasn't at his station at all! There was a part of Papyrus that wanted to believe that maybe Sans had finally taken a page out of his book and was intently patrolling the surrounding area. Perhaps he was scoping the forest in case a human had fallen and gotten lost . . . Knowing Sans, however, it was unlikely.

Ugh . . . may as well go check on the loaf.

As Papyrus left past the edge of town, he came to a long bridge. This bridge was very high up and liked to swing if one were to move too quickly across it. Papyrus knew that someone who might not be as quick or as keen as he, could likely fall if they were not careful while crossing the bridge, and from this height, it was not likely to be a very pleasant fall at that, nor a very pleasant landing.

So why was there someone standing so close to the edge of that bridge? Perhaps they had come to take in the, admittedly breathtaking, view. But the way this figure was looking over the edge . . . something did not quite sit right with Papyrus.

The figure wore a long cloak with a hood and at first glance, Papyrus thought that it might have been the Riverperson taking a break from work. The figure stood, looking out over the sheer drop and they were just standing still . . . like a statue.

Papyrus was cautious in his approach and walked up to the figure carefully.

"Excuse me, strange monster person!" He called.

As he suspected, the monster was startled, but they did not fall. Instead, they gasped and turned to see the one who called out to them.

"I must ask you to please step away from there." Papyrus instructed, "Are you a citizen of Snowdin? If so, I suggest you head back before you fall and your friends never see you again. I'm sure if that were to happen, they would be absolutely heartbroken."

But the figure remained silent as they stared at Papyrus. They didn't move at all except for a shaking hand. Were they okay? Were they cold? How _could_ they be with their cloak on?

Good, they took a step forward and away from the cliff. But even their footsteps were shaky.

Papyrus took a few steps forward himself. Perhaps the person was feeling faint. If need be, he could catch them if they fell and carry them home. It would be great training and he could ensure they got home safely.

As they approached each other, Papyrus noticed the figure drop something at their feet. Some kind of glowing blue flower. Ah! The Echo Flowers of Waterfall! As the petals hit the ground, the flower burst into song. A humming voice, soft and reassuring.

Even though the person had dropped their flower, they didn't seem to care as they stepped slowly toward Papyrus. They raised their hands, reaching out to him.

"No." They said in a stunned breathless whisper, "It can't be . . . could it?"

Papyrus hesitated for a moment, not knowing quite how to respond. "I suppose it could be . . . whatever 'it' is, that is." He stopped, sensing something strange from the other . . . but as strange as the other figure was, it was still . . . familiar to him. Almost – no- actually _very_ welcoming.

Maybe _too_ welcoming.

Too familiar.

The figure reached out in an attempt to touch his face and Papyrus instinctively took a half step backward.

"Oh . . . of course," the figure- a woman by the sound of it- sighed. She had a soft voice and a slight accent in her speech, "That's right . . . there's no way you could be. It's impossible."

"But _nothing_ is impossible!" Papyrus assured, "Perhaps just unexpected. Look at us! Surely, when you woke up this morning, you did not expect to meet The Great Papyrus, future esteemed member of the Royal Guard."

"I certainly did not." The woman answered with a bit of a giggle.

"Yet here we are. The possibilities are endless!"

The woman continued to laugh, "Of course they are!" Feeling more comfortable and less shaken, the woman lowered the hood to her cloak to reveal a smiling Skeleton with kind eyes and a wide, but sad smile, "My apologies, Papyrus, it's just that . . . you look so much like my . . . like someone I knew a long time ago that for a second, I thought that maybe . . ."

"Well, it seems as if it was merely a case of mistaken identity."

"It seems so." The woman agreed, "Either way, I must thank you for coming by. You see, I stop by here this time every year to visit my son."

"Your son, you say?" Papyrus hummed, "Perhaps he is running late. Allow me to accompany you until he arrives!"

"Oh! Well, thank you all the same, but no. You see, my son . . . he died many years ago, when he was still a child. I spread his dust all through the Underground and this was one of the last spots I visited. So, every year, on the anniversary of the day he . . . of when he died, I come by to see it and remember him."

Papyrus' face fell at the story, "That's terrible." He said quietly, looking back at the Skeleton before him. She wore a gentle smile and the look nearly shattered Papyrus as he imagined her with her little boy. This smile was surely just a ghost of the one she would wear when her son was alive. "No mother should have to be without her son."

"Really now, Papyrus. It's alright. It was so long ago. I've since learned to—"

"Nonsense!" Papyrus pushed, "If a son is what you need, then I, the Great Papyrus, shall gladly and humbly offer my assistance! From now on, please consider me to be your second son."

The woman chuckled, "Well, that is very sweet of you. However, I'm sure your own parents would miss you dearly."

"Ah! But that's what makes this such a perfect fit! I have no parents! Just a lazy excuse for a brother who spends all his time napping and neglecting his sentry duties. But we have no mom and no dad! And if you have no son, then it's perfect!"

"Papyrus . . . " The woman sighed, finally walking the last few steps forward and reaching out to take Papyrus' face gently in her hands. "Sweetheart, I'm afraid that's not how these things work. Though I am genuinely sorry to hear about your parents. I cannot be a substitute for them . . . nor can you be a substitute for my son. Listen, you still have your brother, right?"

Papyrus nodded from within the woman's hands.

"You should cherish him. You should love him with all the time you have. If you do that, then I'm sure your parents would be very proud of you!"

"But what about you?"

"I have done well for this long. I can carry on. Please don't worry yourself over me. And if ever I find myself in need of a son, I will be sure to seek out the Great Papyrus!"

At the suggestion, Papyrus seemed to light up. For some reason, just hearing her use his name and his self-proclaimed title was wonderfully assuring! If she believed . . . if this complete stranger believed in him, then he would surely continue to be the greatest Papyrus he could be!

"Magnificent!" He cheered, "You do that! Now, if you will excuse me, I must be off to find my brother and get him to stop lazing about before he loses his job and I lose my credibility. It was I who recommended him for the position, after all. If he performs poorly, my flawless reputation will suffer as well!"

Again, the woman giggled, "Alright then." She grinned, tilting Papyrus' head as she stood on her toes to touch their skulls together. When she spoke again, her voice was a low hum.

"Thank you, Papyrus. I'm feeling much better now."

"Oh. Well, you are very welcome, Miss . . ."

"Nyala . . . Just call me Nyala." The woman answered pulling away and lifting her hood once again. "Take care, Papyrus. Perhaps I will see you again."

"Of course you will!" Papyrus grinned.

After a final turn toward the sheer drop of the cliff, the woman muttered something before she left to cross the bridge.

It was after she had disappeared into the forest that Papyrus noticed that she never picked her flower back up. As to what to do with the flower, Papyrus was torn. He could try to replant it . . . but in this weather, it would die in no time. Or he could return it to the Skeleton woman . . . but he had no idea where she'd gone, where she was headed, or how he would find her again.

He picked it up, contemplating his conundrum.

"He really does look just like him." The flower whispered in the woman's voice.

Papyrus stared down at the flower for a long moment. He was not expecting the other voice at all. It was a small voice that chased him and startled him out of his thoughts.

"Howdy!"

* * *

Sans shuffled along through the snow toward his own little corner. No one would think to bother him over there. It was secluded, and quiet.

It was perfect.

And on top of that, there was the most incredibly huge door he'd ever seen. He'd been here several times before, even before it was closed off . . . but ever since he and Papyrus first found that little blue soul, he hadn't been _through_ the door. Not that he really wanted to.

But still, at least it was still good for something.

Sans knocked on the door. Who he was trying to alert, he had no idea. Maybe just the door. Yeah, the door was quite the audience. Just like Papyrus had been before he woke up. In those days, he would always be there to listen to Sans' stories and his jokes and Sans knew he could always rely on him.

Lately, however, his brother was becoming less and less receptive to his bad joke telling. In fact, Sans' puns seemed to annoy him more than entertain him and he would even get a bit upset with him, though the reason behind it remained a mystery. Papyrus used to love Sans' jokes . . . well, if not, at least he seemed to receive them better back then.

But now, Sans had lost his best audience. Though he would still pal around with the people over at Grillby's and he was thinking about signing up for Comedy Night over at the restaurant over in Hotland (if only for the extra money), somehow, it just wasn't the same.

Sans sighed as he looked back to the door leading to the RUINS. It was close to the only thing that could ever relax him and save him from his own crushing thoughts long enough to actually make him feel somewhat better.

"knock, knock." He asked no one in particular.

Of course, no one answered. No one ever did.

'who's there?" He asked himself.

"cold."

"cold who?"

"cold you at least open up the door and let me in. it's freezin' out here."

He let out a dry laugh, but there was no amusement behind it. It was all just part of the script. Part of the sequence.

"knock knock."

Sans sighed, " . . . who's there?"

"stu."

"stu who?"

"'stu late now. i'm already frozen solid."

Sans didn't even bother pretending to laugh. There was no point.

He continued. May as well. There was nothing better to do. He knew he was supposed to be at his station looking for humans . . . but hey, if any human did fall down, there was no way they would get past him. Not when they HAD to go through this door in order to get to the rest of the Underground.

Two birds, one stone.

"knock knock." He called again.

"Who is there?" Said a different voice. A woman's soft voice called back to him through the door.

"HOLY SH—!"

Sans started, a jolt running through him at the unexpected voice. No one EVER answered him! No one was ever INSIDE the RUINS! What the heck!?

What was he supposed to do now? Yeah, he had another joke on-hand, but . . .

The woman on the other side of the door was waiting for his response. Should he apologize for bothering her and be on his way? Or should lie and just say that he was only trying out a few random jokes and working on his delivery? Should he even answer at all?

He was hesitant in his approach. Honestly, he had no idea _what_ to expect from this mystery woman, was she even one for jokes? Would she respond like the people down at Grillby's . . . or would she respond more like Papyrus . . . . maybe he should test the waters first.

Well, at the very least, she did respond to his setup . . . so . . .

What the hell? May as well give it a shot.

"dishes." He answered.

Without missing a beat or wasting any time at all, the voice responded, "Dishes who?"

Well, she was playing along. That's a good thing, at least. With only a half-hearted smirk, Sans delivered the punch, "dishes a very bad joke."

It wasn't a lie or even remotely funny . . . at least to him, but it was the starter that he had on-hand.

At first, there was a hesitant silence and Sans let out a breath.

Of course . . .

Sans shoved his hands in his pockets once again, ready to mutter a quick apology before heading back to his post. So much for that. And so much for this place. He'd have to find another secluded spot to get away and unwind.

Then, after a moment's pause, the one on the other side of the door let out a roar of laughter, unbridled, unapologetic, and full, as if it was the best joke she'd heard in a hundred years. There was no way a laugh like that could be forced, no way it could be a cheap play to try and make him feel better. The sound was unexpected and infectious to say the least. Just hearing her laugh, knowing that she'd found genuine joy in his lame half-assed attempt at comedy, it was enough to ease Sans out of his troubled funk and to get him to relax a bit more. He leaned his back against the door as his genuine laugh joined hers.

It was his first real smile since before he left the lab all those years ago.

THE END

* * *

 **AN: Well, here we are! We've come to the end of the road. Again! I want to take this opportunity to say THANK YOU to each and every one of you! EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU! You guys kept me going through all of this and motivated me to finish this story! I probably would never have done it otherwise! Especially considering my track record . . . eh-heh-heh . . . *ahem***

 **I do have another idea coming soon. It will be its own story, however it will tie into this story in quite a few ways! Stay tuned for what I'm about 87% sure will be called "Ever Hear of a Talking Flower?"**

 **In the meantime, if you're looking for more to read, be sure to give my original novel, Surpassing Origins, a look! It's available on Amazon in paperback and e-reader!**

 **Now, this final thing I'm doing is DEFINITELY a vanity project. I'm not going to lie or sugarcoat it. Put plainly, this is the very first fanfiction I've ever completed and I'm IMMENSELY proud of it! So, after I edit the CRAP out of the errors here, I'm going to preserve it!**

 **I will be publishing this fic and making it into a book! Again, I'm doing this for my own selfish pride, however, if there are any of you who would like a copy of your own, I will be making it available for purchase! If you are interested, please send me a PM so I can keep you updated on it! Perks of getting a copy of your own will include several "Behind the Scenes" bonus features such as a special message to the reader, a look into the things that inspired the story, alternate/deleted scenes, illustrations and a new cover!**

 **For now, however, I will say my farewells with the hope of seeing you again for the next fic! Thank you again for everything and take care!**

 **Love, Jes**

 **=^w^=**


End file.
